Bloodlust
by lyo24boi
Summary: 'Hymn for the Cursed, Part 10' - Things have been peaceful for too long and the McCall Pack believes their troubles may finally be on the downturn. Two visitors, however, immediately begin to change all that. SCISAAC. Rated M for language and graphic content.
1. And So It Begins

**| CHAPTER ONE, And So It Begins |**

"Are you almost packed?" Scott said first as he entered his mother's house, Isaac right behind him. The beta quickly closed the front door and peaked out the window in the living room, watching for any irregular movement.

"Almost. Scott, what's going on?" Melissa said, walking down the stairs, two carry-bags in her hands.

"No time to explain. Stiles' dad is on his way over; he's gonna' take you somewhere safe."

"Safe? Scott talk to me."

"They killed her," he said, sitting down, his eyes a little glazed over from shock. "They killed Allison."

…_one day earlier: November 22, 2017._

"You're gonna' help me cook tomorrow, right?" Melissa asked Scott as he bit into his grilled cheese.

"Uh—" Scott began.

"Listen here, if your entire pack is coming over _and_ Stiles _and_ his dad _and_ the Argents, I sure as hell am not cooking without help."

"I'll help you, mom," Isaac said with a mouthful. "Even on his own Scott still needs to stay away from the kitchen." Isaac smirked at Scott's frown, looking over at Melissa who also smiled.

"It's because you do everything for him," she replied, looking at Scott as if waiting for whatever excuse he'd throw out next."

"He offers!" Scott tried but they only grinned even more. "I hate you both," he said before taking another large bite out of his sandwich.

_Bang, bang, bang._

"I'll get it," Isaac said, walking to the front door. "Hello?" There stood a kid. A teenager. A nervous wreck that looked frightened out of his mind.

"I heard the _alpha_ was here."

…

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Coming!" came Allison Argent's voice from the kitchen of her and her father's apartment. Allison opened the front door to see two men standing there, the forward-most-one with a cheery smile on his face. "Hello?" she said curiously, both looking vaguely familiar.

"How's my favorite niece," the first one said.

"Uncle…Uncle Clark?" she said. The man smiled wider. "What're you doing here?" Allison said as she stepped forward, taking her dad's younger brother into a hug.

"It's good to see you, too, Ali," her uncle said. "Do you remember this guy?" he continued, pointing at the younger man behind him. When Allison looked a little lost, he filled in the gap. "You probably don't remember him; I think you only met him once or twice as a kid. This is your Uncle Courtney—the baby of the family."

Allison smiled and they only shook hands. "I remember when you were only this big," the younger man said, holding hand to about a toddler's height.

"Allison, who was at the…door…" Chris said as he rounded the corner. The oldest of the four Argent siblings quickly looked unhappy, but walked up to them regardless. "Clarence, Courtney," he said rather stiffly, only barely acknowledging his brothers.

"Chris, it's good to see you," Clarence said, smiling at his brother, though certainly not as warmly as he had at Allison.

"Is it just the two of you?"

"Louise and Neil will be here tomorrow morning." Chris only nodded once, and slowly. "Can we come in?"

"By all means," Chris Argent said, his tone clearly skeptical and hesitant.

As they walked in, Allison tried to break the brick-thick sheet of ice. "I thought you were in Afghanistan?" she said, directed at Clark.

"I got back last month; company didn't need me there anymore."

"Allison," Chris interrupted, "would you mind giving us some time to…catch up?" Allison looked at him strangely, weirded out by her father's behavior. But she only nodded and walked into her room as the three men walked into the office. Allison sat at her desk, clearly trying to process what had _just_ happened when her father switched on the one way speaker in her room (as Allison was now a full employee of _Argent Arms International_ and her father's number-two, Chris enabled all so-called private meetings to be listened in on from Allison's room):

"_What're you doing here?" Chris said accusingly._

_"She could have joined us, Chris," Clarence replied. "We know she _knows_ about our family business. She dated the alpha, right?"_

"_I won't ask a second time," Chris pushed, not impressed._

"_Look, Chris," Courtney began, his tone clearly more of a plea and loaded with no sense of amusement like Clarence, "you and I both know Gerard…well I was never a fan of his." There was a pause. "But what happened here, with him. With Kate. Christ, with your wife…"_

"_What Courtney's getting at," Clarence picked up, "is that we're back to finish the job. Once and for all."_

"_So, to hell with the code?" Chris replied. "You wanna' come here and murder some college kids?" When Clarence seemed to not be impacted by that, Chris continued. "Look, I've put the Hales behind me and the pack here is different, Clarence. If you knew anything about your targets, you'd know that."_

"_The world is changing, Chris. These beasts are only getting more and more hostile. And others, well others think it's time to retire the code."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_We're not the only ones who've lost family to these creatures," Clarence stated matter-of-factly. "Michael Ostravos is dead."_

_Chris was silent for a moment, processing what his estranged brother just told him. "You're sure it was a werewolf?" Courtney nodded._

"_We've tracked the killer here," Clarence said._

"_Wait, why're_ you_ tracking him?" Chris asked. "What's going on?"_

"_The families have abolished the code."_

"_They can't abolish the code, not without the consent of all three."_

"_They don't recognize you as the head," Clarence said._

"_Excuse me?"_

…

"I'm Scott," the brunette said, getting up from the table and walking over to the door.

"Max…I'm Max," the kid said nervously.

"Max, why don't you come in and sit down." Max looked at Scott and hurried in, Scott and Isaac both checking the outside for anyone who could be of alarm. "Mom, can you get him something hot to drink?" Melissa nodded and went back into the kitchen as the three werewolves walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. "This is my beta, Isaac, and this is my mom, Melissa," he said as she returned with a cup of tea. "You can speak freely in front of them."

Max only continued to shiver, his face pale—due to the cold or something else had yet to be determined. He stared at the cup of tea his hands wrapped around, his gaze seemed to be looking far beyond the brown liquid. "Max, can you tell us how you knew to find us here?" Isaac asked calmly. Max looked up at Isaac, his eyes flashing yellow before looking back down at the tea. "Do you have a pack?" The boy's head shook. "So, you're an omega?" Max flinched a little at the word before looking up at Scott.

"I…" Max tried, but stopped and looked back down again.

"Sweetheart," Melissa tried, placing her hand on Max's wrist, "are you from around here?" Max shook his head again. "Can you tell us where you're from?"

"Wah…Wash-Washington…" He quickly lifted the tea and took a sip, almost slamming it back down when he removed the ceramic from his lips.

"Max," Scott began again, speaking more firmly yet equally welcoming. Max looked up at him, directly into his eyes. "Can you tell us why you're scared?"

"H-Hunters. Lots of them."

"Did they follow you here?" Scott asked, not breaking eye contact. But Max did, looking down at his cup again. Scott looked at Isaac and the blonde nodded, standing to check the perimeter. "Max, were you followed?"

"I…I-I don't think s-so."

"Where did they find you?"

"The woods." He took another sip.

"What woods?" Max shrugged. "Were they here in Beacon Hills?" Max shook his head, causing the other three to breathe a little easier. "Max…what happened to your alpha?" Max began to twitch again, but this time a little more profusely, his eyes and head shaking as if he were recalling a horrible memory. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay," Scott said, reaching across the table and grabbing Max's hand. Immediately, Scott's veins began to fills with black pain and Scott's brows furrowed. "Max, are you hurt anywhere?" Max didn't move and nor did his eyes open. Scott looked at his mother and she stood. "Max, my mom is a nurse. Can she take a look at you? Maybe in the other room?" Max looked up at Scott, and then to Melissa. She took his hand and he followed her into the kitchen. Isaac came back from the living room and Scott stood.

"Any guesses?" Isaac said, looking to his boyfriend.

"It's not the hunters he's afraid of," Scott answered. "When he mentioned them—"

"His heart skipped."

Scott nodded. "He's afraid of his alpha."

…

"_With Gerard's death," Clarence continued, "and your lack of will to deal with the killers appropriately, they turned to me. After all, I've been picking up this family's slack for years anyways."_

"_Just because you're good at killing doesn't make you a leader," Chris retorted._

"_They think otherwise. It doesn't matter, it's done now. And they're coming for him. For them all."_

"_They?"_

"_The Ostravosi and the Silbers. They'll be here Friday."_

Allison could hear the leather of her father's chair squeak and she imagined him sitting back and looking up at the ceiling, exacerbated. _"So they're…_you're_ declaring all-out war then?" There was a brief pause and Chris continued. "Great…."_

"_We're pulling out all the stops."_

"_They're bringing Lawton," Courtney said._

_When Chris didn't answer, Clarence continued. "So, the question is, are you with us?"_

…

Melissa walked up to her boys and sighed. "He's got a stab wound on his side. It's missed anything vital but it's…well it's not healing. You said wounds from an alpha take longer to heal right?"

Scott nodded. "We were thinking the same thing."

"Well I can patch him up," Melissa said, "but, Scott, you need to look at him. If it was his alpha…"

"I know, we'll take care of it," Scott answered. They went into the kitchen to find Max sitting in the corner against the rotating cabinet, the stab wound visible. Scott walked up to him and held his hand out, smiling down at the boy. Max took it and stood, looking right at Scott. "Did your alpha do this to you?" he said, pointing at it. Max didn't answer but looked away, his heart noticeably skipping to Scott and Isaac. "Can I look at it?" Scott crouched down and peered at the wound with glowing red eyes. He looked back at Isaac and Melissa and nodded. Melissa handed Max his shirt and the boy slipped it back on as Scott walked back over to Isaac.

"What do you wanna' do?" Isaac asked, looking at Max with sympathy.

"Let's take him back to ours. With the others in the building, he might feel safer there. We can loan him the guest room." Isaac nodded and left to go start up the car. "Max, c'mon, buddy. My mom's gonna' patch you up and you can come with us." Max looked up at Scott and nodded, a subtle glint of gratitude in his stare. Isaac came back into the house, all coated and scarfed up to go when Scott's phone rang. "Hello?"

"Scott, we need to talk." It was Allison Argent.

* * *

**Author's Note**: OC Visualizers:

_Clarence "Clark" Argent_: Chris Diamantopoulos

_Courtney Argent_: Brian Geraghty

_Max Guyton_: Connor Jessup


	2. Amends

**| CHAPTER TWO, Amends |**

"I'm surprised she's not here yet," Isaac commented, arms crossed and relaxed back into their plusher chair near the giant bay window of their apartment.

"She should be here any minute," Scott said, looking at him from his place in the kitchen, leaning on the island counter between it and the inner-most side of the kitchen. Scott checked the time on his phone and subconsciously huffed, knowing Isaac was right to be surprised. Nevertheless, moments later, they heard that distinctive walking pattern coming down the hall, albeit a little faster than her normal pace. "I got it," Scott said, walking over to the door before she could even knock. "You okay?" he said to Allison Argent as she walked right in, alarm written all over her face.

"Do you have anything to drink?" Allison asked, looking from Scott to Isaac.

"Mountain Dew, alright?" Scott asked, walking over to the steel refrigerator.

She laughed a little awkwardly. "I was thinking something a little stronger?"

"Oh." Scott looked a little stricken before leaning down and reaching under the stove into the cabinet there. He pulled out a bottle of vodka Isaac had bought and never opened and cracked the seal. He poured a glass for her and looked at her as if to ask, 'Do you want something else in it?' She shook her head and grabbed the short glass from him, taking a large gulp for the first sip.

"Allison, what's wrong?" Isaac asked, standing up and joining the former couple in the kitchen.

"Ohh where to begin?" she said, turning so both could see her face, looking up at the ceiling and smiling awkwardly; they could tell she was in a mild state of shock as they exchanged looks. "Scott, we never really talked much about our families did we?" Scott looked at her weird because she knew the answer to that: no. "Kate isn't my father's only sibling; he has two brothers." Isaac's head immediately fell forward, nearly touching the countertop as he leaned over one of the stool-chairs. "Guess who showed up tonight?"

"I take it they're not here just for Thanksgiving?" Scott said, wishing that were so. Allison's expression said it all. "They know Derek isn't in Beacon Hills anymore right?"

"That's just it…they don't care." She looked down at her drink before taking another sip. "I…I don't even know where to begin. This is a mess."

"Start at the beginning," Isaac said calmly. "Why _are_ they here? And now of all times?"

"Okay," she said, nodding, her expression indicating that she was collecting her words finally. "Okay, so obviously I'm not supposed to be telling you guys this. By any right. Hunters, we're probably more secretive than druids, but this, I think it's time I lay some of our hand on the table." Isaac and Scott exchanged another look, this time more of worry. "Out of all the hunters around the world, there are three main families; clans more like. If a hunter isn't blood, there's a sixty percent chance they're employed by one of the families. The Argents are one of these families." Scott picked up the bottle of vodka and poured two glasses for himself and Isaac, despite knowing that the alcohol itself would have little-to-no effect on them at all; he was hoping that maybe the sting going down would at least help in some way. "The Argent family is of French descent. The other two are of German and Russian: the Silber and Ostravos families."

"Argent means 'silver,' right?" Isaac asked, looking at her like he would a mentor; Allison nodded. "I take it Silber does, too?" She nodded again. "Then what is Ostrov—what was it?"

"Ostravos. It means 'bane.'"

Isaac's eyes closed heavily and a deep breath entered and exited his body.

"Centuries ago, they created the code, the original one. _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent._ 'We hunt those who hunt us.'" The couple nodded, recalling that at one point or another. "Apparently they abolished it." Scott made to ask why when Allison just continued. "A werewolf murdered the youngest son of the Russian patriarch. And what with Kate, my mom…Gerard…they're out for blood now."

"It's a declaration of war," Isaac stated matter-of-factly, though it was apparent shock of his own was settling in as evident by his endless gaze at crumb on the counter.

"But Gerard wasn't even killed by a—" Scott began to argue.

"It doesn't matter," Allison pointed out. "_They_ think he was. Only the three of us know what really happened, and that's how it's going to stay."

Scott nodded. "So what do we do? What's gonna' happen is what I'm really asking I guess?"

"My Uncle Clark, he said they're arriving on Friday."

"Two days?" Scott exclaimed. Allison nodded. "How many?"

"I don't know. If I had to guess…all of them."

"Wait, rewind," Isaac said. "Why are they coming here?"

"Apparently they tracked the killer to Beacon Hills. My uncles did," Allison stated, forcing Isaac and Scott to share a very knowing look. "They're working with the other two families." When they didn't look back at her, Allison easily picked up on it. "What?"

"Go check to see if he's awake," Scott told Isaac and the blonde excused himself. "We have a _guest_," Scott said as he refocused on Allison.

"Is it…" she began before hushing her voice more, "is it the one they're tracking?"

"We don't know, he hasn't said much. He's just a teenager. Scared out of mind."

"He's asleep," Isaac said as he walked back out into the kitchen.

"He's afraid of his alpha," Scott continued, anger rising within his voice, "he has a wound from the bastard."

"What _do_ you know about him?" Allison pressed.

"He came here from up north, from Washington," Isaac answered. "Like Scott said, he's really afraid of his alpha…every time we mention him his heart rate and body language changes. But he was also chased by some hunters. Possibly imprisoned, we're not sure." Allison nodded, trying to objectively deduce the situation. "Could it be him?"

"It's possible," Allison answered honestly. "It could just be coincidence."

"How did the hunter die?" Scott asked.

"My uncles didn't say." Suddenly, Allison's phone started to ring. "Hold on—Hey, dad." … "Yeah, I told them." … "No, I haven't gotten that far yet. There's something you need to know though." … "They picked up a stray. One that was chased by hunters up north." … "I asked but they're not sure. Apparently he's just a teenager. They say he's scared out of his mind. And not just scared of the hunters, but of his alpha." … "Alright, I'll do that. Are you okay, dad?" … "Are you sure you wanna' do this?" … "I know but you're still my father." … "If it has to be that way, then yes, I want to do this. Without a doubt." … "See you soon. Love you."

"So there's more?" Scott said matter-of-factly.

Allison nodded, taking her final sip before recounting the rest:

_~When Chris didn't answer, Clarence continued. "So, the question is, are you with us?" There was another pause and Clarence pressed. "Do I need to repeat it?"_

"_Clark," Courtney warned._

"_Allison and I need to talk about this," Chris answered grudgingly._

"_Fair enough," Courtney replied. "You wanna' bring her in here?"_

"_In private," Chris added, his temper rising._

"_We can wait here if you'd—"_

"_I'll let you know tomorrow," Chris said, the noise coming through the speaker indicating that he'd stood rather violently._

"_Don't wait too long, brother," Clarence said and there was some shuffling of the feet. "And by the way, don't let your werewolf-loving daughter prevent you from making the right decision."_

"_Screw you."~_

_From her bedroom, Allison heard her uncles leave, the front door slamming harsher than normal. Immediately she heard footsteps and her cracked door opened. "Hey," Chris only said, not knowing where to begin._

"_Hey," Allison replied. "So that…that could have gone better."_

"_Eleven years and that's what I get," Chris said, shaking his head._

"_What're we gonna' do?"_

"_You're an adult now, Allison. I…I was hoping this was all behind but clearly…" Chris looked down at his feet. "It's your call; you know how this goes."_

_Allison took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. "Strategy over emotion," she recited, words her grandfather had used to 'advise' years ago._

"_Allison, you can sleep on this if you—"_

"_I can't. If Scott's in danger, I need to make it now." She fell back onto her bed and closed her eyes again, roughly running her hands in her hair, even tugging at some of the locks closer to her scalp. "So we have two options," she began, verbally expressing her thoughts. "One, we join in exterminating pack after pack, no regard to the code. Theirs or ours. Two, we stand with Scott and show them that the code is in place because of someone like him."_

"_Three," Chris added, "we get killed by people we've allied with for centuries. Or four…"_

"_Four?"_

"_We do nothing."_

"_Four isn't an option, dad," Allison said, sitting up._

_A silence crept into their conversation and both stirred every several seconds or so. When it seemed there might be a need for more time, Chris added a final thing. "Allison, I want you to consider another thing. Besides 'strategy and emotion.'" Allison looked at her father, puzzled. "Things here…things are different. For the two decades before we came here, I've been hunting werewolves in every town we've moved through. Even before that. But now…with Scott. Something's different. He's…" Chris paused, laughing at himself for what he was about to say. "He's true. And that means something. There's a chance here. For peace, yes. And that's a perspective you need to consider in the strategy. But there's something else, too. Things are grey now. And uncertain. So consider what's right."_

"You've worked him over, Scott," Allison said, smiling at him, though clearly wary about what's ahead. "You've worked us both over. That's why I'm here. I decided for option 'two.'" Scott smiled at her gratefully and Isaac grabbed his hand, squeezing a little for reassurance. "But I need to be honest, too. Even after all I've been through. All we've been through. All my training. Everything with my family. Our ways. I…I'm making this decision not just strategically. And not just because I know it's right. Scott…" she said as she began to tear up, "I'm making this emotionally, too. I…" and the tears really began to flow and her voice began to choke up, "I miss you and I can't bear to lose you."

Immediately, Scott was on her, wrapping his arms around her for the first time in years. For the first time since she'd broken up with him after the kanima incident. But now, even when in that moment a declaration of love could follow from her lips, now they both knew things were different. Things had matured for them all and even more, Scott had certainly moved on—and dissolving that, what Scott had with Isaac…that wasn't within Allison.

"It's gonna' be okay," Scott assured her, clinging to her tight and she did just the same. "You remember what I told you before?" She shook her head a little. "'I know we're going to be together.'"

"But, Scott, you—"

"Yeah," he said with a light laugh, forcing her to arms' length, "I know things are different now. And who knew I'd mean that in a…_different_ way?" Scott turned to look back at Isaac, smiling as he reached out his hand; Isaac instantly took it and slowly walked towards them. "But we will," he continued, looking back at her. "I promise. Even when you _decide_ to be an omega sometimes, you'll always be a part of this pack." She smiled and nodded. He pulled her back into a hug and Isaac wrapped his arms around Scott and, incidentally, Allison as well.


	3. Turkey Dawn

**| CHAPTER THREE, Turkey Dawn |**

_November 23, 2017. Thanksgiving Day._

"Why can't they all be like that?" Scott said after rolling off onto his back, his breath almost heaving. Isaac just lay there, face down and lost in the high from their ecstasy.

"Because then I'd never get to top," Isaac grumbled, half of his mouth stuck to the sheet beneath him.

"But your ass is better than mine, so I think I should top more."

"That's not a reasoned argument, and besides, your ass is better."

"No yours is."

"I'm not playing this game," Isaac said pushing himself so he could get to his feet. "This is why we take turns." Isaac looked back and Scott nodded, but when the blonde looked away Scott reached over and pulled Isaac back down by his waist. "What're you—mmph…" Scott kissed him hard, one hand on his thigh. Scott's tongue pushed deep into Isaac's mouth and Isaac attempted to force their kiss closer, his arm bending and his hand reaching into the back of Scott's hair.

_Creak_.

They both looked up at their closed bedroom door and waited. Nothing. Scott pecked Isaac's forehead before releasing the blonde and getting up. He slipped his pajama bottoms on and slowly opened the door. Seeing no one, he looked back in to find Isaac getting clothes out to take a shower. "Go check on him, I'm gonna' get ready to head to mom's." Scott nodded and walked out of their bedroom, closing the door behind him. He walked out into the open apartment to find Max sitting at the island counter, staring endlessly at his glass of orange juice.

"Morning," Scott said, walking over to the boy.

"Morning," Max said. He certainly wasn't fully recovered, but he clearly looked better than he had last night. He was no longer trembling and his eyes weren't as sunken in as they'd been. Some color had returned to his skin and his heart and breathing had eased down.

"Did you sleep alright?" Scott asked as he reached in the fridge to grab a protein shake. Max nodded, not taking his eyes off of the glass; Scott could tell he hadn't even taken a single sip from it. "Hey," Scott said, leaning his head down to get more into Max's line of sight. The teenager looked at him and Scott continued. "Happy Thanksgiving." Max blinked and finally, one corner of his mouth tugged into the tiniest of smiles. "Ah, there is a person in there," Scott teased, and Max's mouth tugged a little more. Scott walked over to the west-facing window and looked out, seeing the morning sun already strong in the sky; the view was one of the greatest perks of the apartment, but certainly the most damaging to their income.

"Scott?" Max said after taking a sip of his juice.

Scott turned, surprised that he was opening up more. "Yeah?" he answered, walking over to him.

"Can I…stay here?" Max looked back at Scott's face to see the alpha with a reassuring smile.

"I want to say 'yes,'" Scott said and immediately Max recoiled, "but I want you to meet the rest of the pack before you ask. I want you to be sure." That drew him back out and Max nodded. "My mom is having Thanksgiving dinner at her house in a few hours, and I'm sure she's already expecting you to come. Would you like to join us? Everyone will be there. My pack. Some friends." Max nodded a little more fervently and Scott grinned. "Alright, well, why don't you get cleaned up and I'll bring you some clean clothes. We're almost the same height."

The omega gulped down his juice and took off towards the guest room, closing the door behind him. Scott, too, returned to his room to find Isaac just coming out of the bathroom, naked and glistening. "You're a cruel beta," Scott said, eyeing him up and down, Isaac's asshole smirk making his lust _that_ much worse.

— | BYW | —

The alpha, beta, and omega arrived at Melissa's at half past eleven. The aroma of a cooking turkey permeated even through the thick wooden front door, free for all to smell regardless of smelling ability. They walked in and found Stiles' dad already there, in the kitchen with Melissa, whisking a metal bowl of something.

"Hey, mom," Scott announced after they walked in, the television set to ESPN for the upcoming football games.

"Boys," she said, poking her head out to smile and wave.

"Come say 'hi,'" Scott motioned for Max to follow, Isaac already two steps ahead. They walked into the kitchen and saw that much of Melissa and Isaac's prep work was laying out on the counter, ready to go. "Sheriff," Scott said happily, shaking his hand as Isaac kissed Melissa 'hi.' "This is Max…he's new around here."

"Nice to meet you, Max," the sheriff said, shaking the omega's hand. Scott greeted his mother and she turned to Max warmly and gave him a hug.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she said to him, warming his psyche that much more.

"Anything with fizz," he replied.

"Scott, get him a soda," Melissa ordered before turning back to the blender making mashed potatoes.

Scott got them both a drink before returning to the family room. Isaac stayed in the kitchen to help and only a few minutes later did Melissa excuse Stiles' dad as well; Isaac was suffice enough and, after living with Scott, more experienced at the culinary side of things—as opposed to heating up TV dinners or ordering in like the sheriff had been forced to do after his wife passed.

"So Max, are you a werewolf, too?" the sheriff said after several minutes of watching some mindless pre-game coverage. Max looked horrified though, but one look at Scott's reassuring, dually amused face, he settled in and nodded.

— | BYW | —

Over the next hour, the rest of Scott's pack and extended members began to arrive. Stiles and Gage arrived first and Scott had to take Stiles aside to tell him not to pester Max with questions, that he'd brief everyone later. Allison and David Clare arrived with Cooper, using David's recently purchased Ford. Danny wasn't coming, as he and Ethan were expected to spend the day at Danny's parents' house; along the same lines, Lydia and Aiden were to be at Lydia's parents' just the same (albeit neither of the alpha twins were still stand alones apart from Scott's pack). Allison and Chris Argent were the last to arrive, and when Stiles recklessly greeted them as his 'two favorite hunters,' Scott had to pull Max upstairs so he could calm the boy down from his subsequent panic attack.

"Alright, dinner's ready," Melissa announced, walking out of the kitchen. "Form a line, grab a plate, and dig in." Scott smiled at his mother and let his guests go before him, Stiles, of course, heading the line. When the alpha finally got in the kitchen, he found Isaac outback. His brows furrow and he slipped through to join the blonde.

"You okay?" Scott asked, wrapping his arms around Isaac's waist.

"Yeah," Isaac said, but his heartbeat said otherwise.

Scott turned him around and saw that Isaac had been crying. His face was red and his eyes were glassy. "What is it? Talk to me." When Isaac only looked away, Scott pulled him into a hug and just stood there with him. Just held him there, paying no mind at all to what was happening inside. Isaac needed him and whatever was up, Scott knew that by just being there, Isaac would feel better.

And he was right.

Isaac finally pulled away and kissed Scott's forehead. "You always know what to do," Isaac said with a weak smile, still having been crying on Scott's shoulder.

Scott beamed up at him and popped Isaac's lips lightly with his finger, forcing the blonde to laugh a little. Scott winked before saying, "Do you wanna' talk about it?"

"It's okay…we can talk about it some other time." Scott patted Isaac's chest and nodded. "But so you don't worry, I was just reminiscing about the last time I was at one of these."

Scott looked confused. "One of what?"

"Family gatherings."

"Oh." Scott understood, thinking that it must have been back when Isaac's mother and brother were still in the picture.

"C'mon, I'll be alright."

Scott linked his hand with Isaac's and they walked back in to find only Allison, her father, and Melissa in the kitchen, the former two loading their plates. Melissa looked at them as if to ask if everything was okay, and Scott and Isaac, who'd both picked up on it, nodded. She smiled before letting Isaac and Scott ahead of her, albeit arguing with Isaac in the process.

Soon, everyone was seated at the dining room table. Melissa took one end, with the sheriff to her right, Stiles to his, Gage to his, Allison Clare to hers, and Cooper to hers. At the far end sat David Clare, with Chris Argent to his right, Allison Argent to his, Isaac to hers, Scott to his, and Max to his. Small talk erupted all around the table, much of it initially about the food before evolving into catching up on everyone's lives or even on current events. Scott tried his best to include Max, but he could tell that he was still too shy and timid to speak much; on the flip side, the alpha could also tell that the atmosphere in the room was all that the kid needed.

Every now and then he checked his left, seeing how Chris Argent was holding up with all the werewolves in the room; surprisingly, he seemed just fine. Allison, who, ever since their trip to Mono Lake, had rebuilt her bridges and then some, knew exactly how to incorporate her conversation with Cooper and the Clare siblings with her father, who in turn seemed to completely ignore, or even forget that they were each werewolves. Everything seemed in place. No fires in the kitchen. The 49ers had just won their game before dinner. And the smiles in the room all made for an amazing dinner.

— | BYW | —

"David, where's your sister?" Scott asked as he walked out into the family room.

"She went back to the apartment," David answered. "We forgot the ice cream at home."

"You let her borrow your car?" Scott asked, looking down at his beta with an amused smirk.

"'Let' is a loose term," David replied, earning a brighter smile from Scott. The brunette nodded before walking away to find Gage threatening Isaac with a large serving spoon, telling him to get out of the kitchen.

"C'mon, lover, I think you've done enough for one day," Scott teased, pulling Isaac out by a belt loop.

"Scott?" Gage said. "If you find Stiles, tell him to get his ass in here and dry." Scott nodded, mentally laughing at how much like a married couple the pair seemed.

Scott and Isaac walked into the living room to find it empty and they took a rest on the love seat. "Was dinner alright?" Isaac asked, looking at the fallen back brunette next him with his hands on his stomach.

"Dinner was great," Scott answered. "I'm stuffed."

"Only great?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Exquisite. You and mom outdid yourselves." Isaac beamed, lying back the way Scott was. "I admit, though, I'm ready for 'dessert.'" Isaac looked over at him and made a _'I'm stuffed, too'_ face, eliciting a laugh from Scott. The alpha leaned over to kiss Isaac, the latter attempting to meet him half way when they were interrupted.

"Scott?" It was Cooper, standing in the hallway, looking up the stairs for him.

"In here," Scott said, a little more grumpily than he'd wanted.

"Danny called," Cooper began as he stepped in the room, "said he was on his way over with Ethan. I thought he wasn't coming."

"I asked him to stop by. Lydia and Aiden, too. I need to talk to everyone about something." Cooper looked at him expectantly, wanting more than the completely vague term. "You'll find out when everyone else does."

Not budging, Cooper pressed it. "Does Stiles know?" Scott shook his head; Cooper's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, are you guys engaged?" Scott couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I dunno,' Isaac, are we engaged?"

"I don't see a ring on this finger," Isaac played. "Cheap bastard."

Cooper looked them, clearly not amused. "What is it then?"

"It'll take them both what, five, ten minutes to get here? Plus Allison will be back before that with the ice cream and I can talk about this while everyone's happy and got pie in their face." Cooper's heart immediately began to pick up pace. "Dude, don't fret about it. I'll brief everyone soon."

"Brief?" Cooper's heart doubled and his mouth opened a little in panic.

Scott closed his eyes and breathed, the squeeze on his thigh from Isaac helping to calm him. "Ten minutes, seriously. Then I won't have to repeat myself and all will be as wise as Scott."

Cooper frowned at his alpha, but nodded and walked away.

"'Wise as Scott?'" Isaac reiterated, looking at his boyfriend with an amused smirk. Scott only shrugged. "If you start talking like Stiles, I'm breaking up with you."

Scott looked at him, mouth agape in shock when Stiles' muffled voice filled their ears. "I heard that." Scott peered over the side of the couch to his left to find Stiles hiding under a blanket on the floor.

— | BYW | —

Eight minutes on the dot since Cooper received Danny's text did the latter and Ethan arrive at the McCall residence. They greeted everyone and both were accepted into the house as joyfully and familiarly as any other. Since the twins' return they'd become unofficial yet honorary pack members, turning up only on occasion but treated as equals like the rest of Scott's betas. Two and a half months had passed since the trip to Mono Lake and the thought of forming another pack(s) was still an open question. With reason, too. Still on fragile ground with their partners, and not wanting to upset the harmony that had seemingly been restored to Beacon Hills, the distance and separation alone seemed to prevent that decision from being made. Ethan followed Danny to Los Angeles while his rekindled boyfriend continued to study at UCLA. In turn, Aiden accompanied Lydia across the country to Harvard, doing his best to win her heart (and body) back—so far he seemed to be succeeding.

"So, alpha-boss-man," Ethan began, arms crossed, "what was so important that you had to drag us away from Danny's oh so entertaining parents?"

Danny smirked and Scott looked at them both, puzzled. "Am I missing something?" the alpha asked.

"My dad had a little too much to drink and said some…obscene things," Danny answered, about ready to burst into laughter.

Scott looked at Ethan expectantly and, out of frustration, the twin answered. "He told me I need to bulk up a little more because he doesn't want Danny to squash me." Immediately, Scott facepalmed and Danny's resolve broke, giggling into full blown laughter. "Have you seen these?" Ethan said, lifting up his shirt and pointing to his chiseled abdomen. "Do I look like I'm in need of food? If anything, he's calling you fat," Ethan said, huffing as he turned to and poked Danny. Danny only laughed a little more and Ethan stomped off into the kitchen to find something to drink.

"Well we don't have long, Scott," Danny said after calming down. "My mom wants me to spend time with my grandmother." He leaned in closer and whisper, "And I think she wants to get to know Ethan a little more." Scott nodded and motioned to follow him into the family room.

"Now?" Cooper asked, standing behind the couch with his own arms crossed.

"Lydia and Aiden aren't here, yet. Can you wait?" Scott asked, turning to Danny. The taller brunette nodded when Ethan walked back into the room.

"Scott, my brother just called," the twin said, holding his still active phone at chest level. "He wants to talk to you."

Scott took the phone, confused. "Hey, Aiden, what's up?" … "You're where? Wait what?" … "We'll be right there." Scott hung up the phone and handed it back to Ethan. He looked at Isaac, who was snuggled into the armchair, looking up at Scott with a little worry given Scott's stricken face. "We need to head over to the apartment. All of us." He shifted his gaze to Stiles' dad. "Would you mind staying here with my mom?" The sheriff nodded just as Melissa came down from changing into a clean shirt, having spilled gravy on herself during clean-up. "We'll be back mom, we need to check on something back at the apartment." Before she could even get in a word to question, everyone, including the Argents, followed Scott out and clambered into their respective vehicles.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Request contest again...first one to accurately guess what the divider acronym stands for wins a free request-fic. Only rule: the acronym has to mean what _I_ mean it to mean. This time it's an original based off the four "season titles" (i.e. 'Lose Your Mind,' 'This Might Hurt,' etc.). So be creative. I'll give you a hint now and a bigger hint next week. So the hint now is that it's a four syllable phrase.


	4. Turkey Dusk

**| CHAPTER FOUR, Turkey Dusk |**

When the four cars pulled up, they found Aiden leaning against Lydia's car with his arms crossed, his rare look of concern painted on his face. Lydia, on the other hand, seemed frozen. She was standing before the entrance to the pack's apartment building, so still that even her breathing was barely noticeable.

"Lydia?" Scott began, walking up to her. Finally able to see her face, she looked as though she was in pain, even anguish. "Lydia, what happened?" She didn't answer and none of her movements indicated that she'd even heard him. Scott looked over at Aiden and he shrugged. "Did she scream?" Aiden shook his head and Scott turned his attention back to the banshee before him. "Lydia, look at me. It's Scott." He placed his hands on her shoulders and she finally looked at him, her eyes trembling in their sockets. "Lydia, what happened?"

"Where…" she paused and looked around, finally recognizing the building before her and realizing that this wasn't Scott's mom's house. "No…not again…"

"Lydia?" Scott pushed, forcing himself into her line of sight.

"I feel it again…"

"What? Lydia talk to me…you've been standing here for almost twenty minutes."

"Death." She looked up at the building. "I feel death."

Scott's eyes widened. "Allison…" He took off, running into the building, Isaac right behind him and Cooper and David thereafter. Gage stayed with Stiles while Allison Argent and Danny walked up to Lydia to comfort her; Ethan looked at his brother, a look of worry matching some of the others.' Inside, the elevator seemed to be out of order. Scott immediately crossed the lobby to the stairs, his three betas right behind him. As they passed the entrance to the tenth floor, they caught Allison Clare's scent; by the eleventh, they smelled her blood.

"Allison!" came David's voice and soon he was sprinting past Scott.

"David, wait," Scott yelled after him. But when he, Isaac, and Cooper got out on the twelfth floor, they found David stopped dead in his tracks.

Scott got to his side and looked at his face, only to see his beta's yellow eyes glowing. Scott looked back down the hallway with his own red eyes, only to see the floor covered in biological smears—someone had cleaned up the blood. Scott went first, slowly approaching Allison and David's apartment. Isaac followed first, while Cooper, despite being on the verge of a breakdown himself, followed second.

Scott turned the knob to find it unlocked. His claws and fangs elongated and he slowly opened the door. The cleaned blood trail led inside down the short hallway. Scott and Isaac moved in as one, Scott checking left while Isaac checked right. They listened closely, waiting to hear a creaking shoe or the faintest of heartbeats. But there was nothing. The trail ended as it turned towards a bedroom and Isaac checked in to find nothing and no one there.

"S-Scott…" came David's voice again, still outside in the hall. The other three werewolves exited the apartment and Scott followed David's gaze. The blonde was now facing the stairwell door and his eyes were fixated on the floor: the trail led under the door. Scott placed a hand on David's shoulder before slipping past him and into the stairwell. The trail led up. Scott and Isaac shared a look before running up, following it quickly. The trail led out to the fourteenth floor, the top floor. And it led to where Scott had hoped it wouldn't: into Scott and Isaac's apartment.

Isaac took the lead this time, his sense as Scott's sentinel kicking into overdrive. Each of their hearts were racing, the increasing density of the blood trail and the lack of knowing forcing the worst into their heads. Isaac turned the handle, it too unlocked, and walked in first. There he saw her. "Scott, keep them out." Scott looked at him funny at first, but then understood. David and Cooper reacted violently, transforming fully, forcing Scott to do the same. Isaac slipped in and locked the door behind him, knowing that a simple lock wouldn't hold them—especially Cooper—if Scott couldn't keep them contained. What Isaac saw merited his warning: leaning against the island, with the stool-chairs turned over, was Allison Clare's lifeless _half_ body.

In addition to being cut in half, and otherwise cauterized in the process, she also had a number of gunshot wounds around her body, none of them in her head, however. Isaac immediately turned away and threw up in the corner, the sight and stench far too much for him. He stayed there for a minute, trying to focus on Scott's growls when his boyfriend's alpha roar resounded throughout the floor. Isaac's eyes immediately began to glow and a sense of control washed over him. He collected himself and walked into the back to find some sheets; David and Cooper could not see her like this. When he returned, he found Scott standing in the closed doorway, his locked gaze on Allison.

"Scott…" Isaac began, but that only caused the alpha to reach back for the wall and slide down it. Tears immediately began to fall from his eyes and Isaac could smell the devastation reeking from him. Isaac quickly walked over there, laying out the sheets and lifting her onto them with as much will as he could muster. He wrapped her as best he could, closing her eyes in the process before walking over to Scott and embracing him. Cora had been right: losing a member of the pack, it _was_ like losing a limb. In this case, in Scott's pack, it must have been worse.

The couple sat there for a few moments, Scott, but for his weeping eyes, still in shock. Isaac hadn't seen him like this in years. Felt him this way. Smelled him this way. Scott hadn't been like this since he thought Derek had died fighting Ennis, and now that it was one of Scott's own, Isaac wasn't sure the alpha would recover unscathed. Isaac did the only thing he could think of and texted Stiles, telling him to come up and to bring Gage, Danny, and the twins. When the four finally made it up there, Scott's eyes had dried up and Isaac forced him to curl up in the arm chair.

_Knock, knock._

Isaac opened it slowly and slipped out, spotting not only the four werewolves, but Chris Argent as well. "Isaac," Stiles began, "what's going…whoa what is that smell?" Normally, Isaac would have reacted in an equally childish manner, but the second-in-command could barely summon words, let alone a proper retort. "Why are they all zoned out?" Stiles continued, pointing at David and Cooper who were slouched against the hallway bay window.

Isaac didn't speak at first and Stiles looked back at the others with confusion. Isaac had to remind himself to breathe and started. "Danny…Gage…I…I need you to bring them down to the cars."

"Isaac," Danny began, "what's going on? What's that sm—"

"Now, Danny," Isaac almost yelled, his own trance-like eyes snapping to the brunette's. Danny only blinked and Gage took him by the shoulder to do as they were told. The four werewolves disappeared down the hall and Isaac, whose eyes never left where Danny had been standing, finally closed his and breathed again. He finally looked back at Stiles and willed his mouth and tongue not to fail him. "I need you to take Scott into the bedroom and do whatever you can for him."

Stiles' confusion shifted and he opened his mouth to say something when Isaac turned and walked through the apartment door. Immediately, everything became clear to the emissary. Seeing Scott, the sheet-covered body on the floor. It all made sense. Stiles walked over to Scott, summoning his own will to not look at the sheet, or not to breath in through his nose. He forced Scott to his feet and they slowly made their way to the back as Isaac had instructed.

Isaac watched them disappear when he felt Argent's hand on his shoulder. Isaac turned to attack the man, his outstretched claws raising up when Ethan's hand wrapped around the beta's wrist. Isaac's eyes were shining at their brightest and his fangs threatened to turn them blue. But Aiden appeared on the other side and tugged the blonde back, Ethan taking him and walking him over to the far side of the room. Aiden glared at Chris Argent before opening his mouth. "Should I have let him open your throat?"

Argent only looked at him and bent down before Allison. "I had no hand in this," he said at first before looking up at the twin. "But I know who did." He uncovered her body and even Aiden looked away. Chris began to examine her, looking for any and all clues that he could, even pulling a bullet out with his fingers. When he was done, he re-covered Allison's body and walked over to the sink to rinse the bullet, placing it in a Ziploc. From the corner, Isaac looked over at him, his own face now fallen to sorrow. "Ethan, Aiden, can you walk her body down to the garage? We'll put her in my car for the time being." The twins nodded and delicately lifted her, following Chris' instructions. Argent looked at Isaac for a moment, at a loss for words given that he was sure his own brothers were behind this. "Go be with him," he finally said, looking towards the back bedrooms. "He's really gonna' need you." And with that, Chris followed after the twins.

— | BYW | —

Another half hour passed by when Allison and Gage entered the apartment. Chris had explained everything that had and was happening. He explained about his brothers and that they were chasing an omega, eliciting a few looks in Max's direction. He explained about the code and the families, and about their imminent arrival. Most importantly, however, he explained his theory surrounding the bullet: because of its type, Argent believed that the families were already here.

Gage had the intent of looking for Stiles, but when she saw Isaac curled up in the far corner alone, she couldn't help but walk over there to comfort him. She and Allison exchanged a look and the huntress made her way into the back bedroom to find Stiles sitting on the bed with Scott's head in his lap, fast asleep. Allison helped Stiles wake the alpha and get him to his feet, the three stumbling out into the open apartment to find Isaac with Gage's arm wrapped around him. The five made their way out, the trio heading first, giving Isaac the chance to lock up and, in a last fit of rage, tear a spiral into their door with his claws. Gage gawked at him, ready to chastise him when the act of what he'd done suddenly made all the sense in the world.

The trip from the apartment back to Scott's mom's house was completely silent. Isaac mustered up enough energy to drive, Stiles' jeep in front serving as a make-shift compass. Danny, Ethan, and Max followed while Aiden dropped Lydia off with plans to rendezvous back at Melissa's. Cooper drove he and David behind the Argents, Chris having promised to bring them to a private place to bury her that wouldn't draw attention and still be respectful.

When they got out of the car, Stiles embraced his best friend once again, looking at Isaac's torn face in the process. In that moment, Scott dug deep inside himself, drawing out his will to see to his mother's safety. Stiles had called his father from the car, explaining that war was about to break out in Beacon Hills; he told him to get himself and Melissa as far out of town as he good as the belligerents couldn't be trusted to not go after them.

"Are you almost packed?" Scott said first as he entered his mother's house, Isaac right behind him. The beta quickly closed the front door and peaked out the window in the living room, watching for any irregular movement.

"Almost. Scott, what's going on?" Melissa said, walking down the stairs, two carry-bags in her hands.

"No time to explain. Stiles' dad is on his way over; he's gonna' take you somewhere safe."

"Safe? Scott talk to me."

"They killed her," he said, sitting down, his eyes a little glazed over from shock. "They killed Allison."

"What? Sweetheart—"

"Mom," Isaac interrupted as she tried to sit next to her son and comfort him, "I've got him. We really need you to get ready." She nodded, but hesitated and looked down at her son.

Stiles suddenly walked in from the back as Gage secured the rear of the house. "Anything else upstairs?" Stiles asked, a sidearm visibly strapped to his belt.

"There's one more bag," Melissa said and looked from Stiles, to Isaac, and finally to Scott. "Isaac, what's going on?" she asked rather forcefully as she sat next to Scott, pulling her near-lifeless son into her.

"A lot of hunters are coming here. We think they're looking for Max, and for some reason, they killed David's sister."

"But we were just—"

"Deaton's on the phone," Stiles began as he walked down the stairs, Melissa's small suitcase in his other hand. "Scott, he wants to talk to you." Scott didn't respond, even to Melissa's light shakes. Stiles dropped the suitcase by the stair and knelt down in front of him. "C'mon, buddy, you need to snap out of it. You gotta' take this," he insisted, thrusting the phone into Scott's hand. Scott didn't move though, so Isaac abandoned his post and pushed Scott back onto the couch and roared at him, eyes glowing and fangs emerging in an instant. Scott finally blinked and nodded, standing up and bringing the phone to his ear.

Scott walked into the kitchen and the three closest to the alpha exchanged a look. Isaac resumed his position and only minutes later did Stiles' dad's car pull into view. Isaac and Stiles looked at each other, forcing Stiles to draw his gun and pop out onto the porch, looking around nervously as Isaac escorted his otherwise-mother-in-law to the car. The Sheriff popped out to hug his son and Melissa, breaking the unspoken protocol, ran back inside the house. "Hold on, doc," Scott said and placed the phone on the counter before throwing his arms around his mother.

"I love you, Scott," she said, clinging to him tighter than ever before.

"I love you, too, mom."

"You make it out of this, you hear?" she said through teary eyes and a choky throat, pulling back and looking into his face as if to recognize it just in case. "Both of you."

"All of us," Scott said through a forced smile. She nodded and walked out, both of them wishing this wouldn't be the last they'd ever see the other. Scott picked up the phone and said, "Yes, call everyone you can, anyone that can help. Tell them that this is war."

— | BYW | —

From the Argents' building they could hear the howling cries of David and Cooper as they mourned Allison Clare's death. The elevator dinged at their floor and Chris walked in first. Their kitchen light was on. Chris looked at his daughter and they both drew weapons, Chris his own Desert Eagle and Allison one of her ring daggers. They slowly moved down the hall, peering into each room they passed. Ultimately, they found no one hiding and there, sitting in a kitchen chair facing the hallway was another familiar face to Chris Argent.

"Sully?" Chris began, lowering his gun.

"Christopher," the man said, smiling up at the pair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, holstering his gun; Allison, however, wasn't quite ready to do the same.

Sully got to his feet and shook Argent's hand, looking over his shoulder at Allison. "This must be your lovely daughter. I hear you're quite the promising matriarch, my dear." Allison continued to look at him with reserve, looking from the older man to her father.

"Allison," Chris began, "this is Captain Sullivan Hancock. He's been a sort of…_consultant_…to our family. He was friends with your grandfather."

Allison nodded slowly, sizing up the old man. Hancock smirked a little, knowing she wouldn't trust him without a little something, and turned his attention back to the older Argent. "I came here as a friend. Not just of your family, but to you, Christopher; I've always respected you." Chis looked at him expectantly, almost as if he was expecting the next words. "As _your_ friend, and with the memory of the way Gerard used to be, let this happen."

"Then you've wasted your time, Sully," Chris said, walking over to the counter to lean against it, Allison still in the archway, her dagger now lowered.

"Listen to me: yes, your brother took control when he had no right to. Yes, you have every right to begrudge him for that and damn Courtney for dropping Victoria's name. But, Christopher, you need to understand this, and you need to understand this well: this _is_ happening, and you can either save yourself and your daughter, or you can die for the losing side. Alexei Ostravos is out for blood, and no code or sense of honor is going to stop him. The families have united under this cause, with Gerard's spirit in their hearts and Frank Lawton as their sword. Any men that were once loyal to you or your father are now with your brothers, and as requested, I've given them more. That's what I've been called to do so now you owe it to yourself, and to your daughter to play it smart. You can't win."

"I think you should leave," Allison said, looking at Hancock with her most threatening glare, masking her pounding heart.

Hancock looked at her, resigned. He turned to Chris one final time, and seeing his agreement with Allison, said, "Don't die for a cause you've spent your whole life fighting." Hancock nodded and slipped by Allison, making to leave.

"Sully," Chris said, standing in the doorway as the older man reached the front door. "This cause you speak of…Scott McCall is fighting for that very thing." The man only blinked before walking out, leaving Chris and Allison with more than enough to ponder. Chris took his daughter into a hug, mulling over all the possibilities in the future, even doubting the choice to side with Scott.

"Dad, what is that?" Allison began, breaking from the hug after spotting a sealed manila envelope under their napkin holder. Allison walked over to it and opened it, pulling out a thick stack of papers. "These are…"

"Dossiers," Chris confirmed. "…on everyone."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Request contest hint #2 (and last): The "B" stands for "Betray." You figure out the rest and you win a free request fic!


	5. Call to Arms

**| CHAPTER FIVE, Call to Arms |**

_November 24, 2017._

The first time Scott slid into consciousness, he was curled up into Isaac, the blonde with his limbs wrapped around him: one arm atop his head on the pillow, one arm slung over his torso, and a leg weighing down on both of Scott's. Isaac took his sentinel duties seriously, and after last night, duty seemed to call in the most sensitive of ways.

The second time Scott awoke, Isaac was no longer physically there. But he was there in the room, in Scott's old bedroom. He was somewhere there, talking on the phone with someone. Scott was too out of it, too drained, too lost to care or concentrate. Last night was more than just a blight in his memory, more than just a scourge. It was a nightmare, serving as a devilish spectre that threatened to bring him down a tunnel towards the blackness. It was a familiar feeling: loss. He'd truly encountered it once before, after he'd partaken in that ritual to find his mother. But this time around, he was unprepared for it. This time it was deeper, as if he'd lost a piece of his soul.

The final time he returned to the active world, he awoke to the sensation of Isaac's hand on his head. His beta was lightly caressing his head, almost petting his hair. He realized he'd been shifted so he was no longer laying on the pillow, but now on his protector's warm chest. Scott moved his hand that was resting on Isaac's stomach, caressing up and down the blonde's pajama shirt, signaling his consciousness. He suddenly felt a kiss in his hair and he only curled up more into his boyfriend.

"Who was on the phone?" Scott asked against Isaac's chest, the former's eyes closing to rest.

"Several people. Your mom, first; they made it to the safehouse just fine." With those words Scott let out an easier breath and his hand that had started to clutch into Isaac's shirt began to loosen. "Argent called—he left a voicemail this morning. They've got some information for us."

"Information?" Scott asked calmly, even plainly.

"He didn't say. They'll be here in a little bit though; I think he mentioned something about an errand." When Scott didn't say anything more, he continued. "I called Derek." Scott shifted slightly, his heartbeat noticeably picking up a little more. "I talked to Cora, they should be here…soon," Isaac confirmed after checking the time on his phone. "Cora didn't give me a whole lot—you know how she is." Scott nodded against his chest. "Do you wanna' shower before they get here?"

"I should," Scott replied.

"By the way, don't be mad at Stiles when you come down; the stuff he brought is important." With that, Isaac made to leave when Scott stopped him, taking hold of Isaac's forearm.

"Can you…come in with me? I don't want to be alone." And Isaac, despite having already showered, nodded.

— | BYW | —

With Isaac right behind him, Scott walked down the stairs to see open-faced and empty metal cases all over the place. They walked into the family room to find an additional flatscreen in the room, both screens divided into six each. "Stiles?" Scott asked, seeing his best friend off to the right in the kitchen, his ass sticking out from behind the open refrigerator door.

"You're up!" he exclaimed. "Good." He walked back into the room with a grape soda and three reheated leftover tacos that Melissa had never eaten.

"What is all this?"

"Umm," Stiles began, a mouth now full of taco. "Well, since our building was targeted, I figured we should set up headquarters here."

"Headquarters?"

"You declared war last night, remember?"

Scott nodded, taking a seat on the couch, only to feel something shoved down in between the cushions. He reached down and found that it was a small ankle pistol, which Stiles quickly took from him.

"Sorry…I knew it was around here somewhere." Scott frowned at him. "What? You know I have guns. Lots of them. I don't have the whole wolf-powers-thing. Besides, you should be happy I have them…this isn't gonna' be pretty." Stiles took a seat at the far end of the couch, placing his plate down on the end table next to him and lifting his AirBook into his lap. He began to type away and one of the small boxes on the flatscreens zoomed in. "This is one of the traffic cameras leading into the development," Stiles began, pointing at the screen. "I've been running a program Danny gave me that runs every license plate it picks up; this one's all the traffic entering the neighborhood from the north so we've got that angle covered."

Scott's head fell back against the top of the couch. "We're going to jail."

"Nonsense," Stiles said, slapping Scott's knee. "Okay, this one here covers the front of the house from the ground floor. And this one covers the front from the roof…" Stiles began to elaborate on about the security system he'd set up, but Scott could barely pay attention. Memories of Allison bombarded every part of his mind. He remembered back to the first time they'd met—before she was a werewolf:

"_Scott, it's the middle of the night," Melissa said, taking the bag of fast food from him. "Don't you have work in the morning?"_

"_Yeah," Scott said with his trademark smile. "Doesn't mean I can't come visit my mother and bring her dinner."_

"_When Isaac starts his residency, if you don't do this for him, I'll kill you," she said with a pointed threatening finger._

_Scott smirked. "Good thing he's not in med-school yet, then I'd have to be doing this for two people." She smacked him in the arm and they shared a laugh. "How's everything tonight?" He leaned a little closer and said, "Any injuries out of the ordinary?" Melissa shook her head when a buzz at the nurses' station caught her attention._

"_I'll be right back; I need to check on a patient." Melissa walked away into a room nearby and Scott couldn't help himself but follow. It was something about the smell emanating from that direction and, as he found out, that room. He peered inside to see his mom checking one of the machines next to a guy that looked to be only just younger than himself. Against the wall was a girl that looked to be about Scott's age, the blonde standing there with her arms crossed and a concerned look on her face. Scott immediately withdrew from view and just leaned against the wall, listening._

"_He started coughing up blood about ten minutes ago," the girl said._

"_Damn," Melissa swore under her breath. Scott heard some ruffling around and then some scribbling. "I'll make sure one of the attendings comes in; if no one stops by in another ten minutes, page the nurses' station again."_

"_Thank you," the girl spoke again. There was a pause when suddenly Melissa walked out of the room, closing the door behind her while simultaneously frowning at Scott._

"_Seriously, Scott?" she said, hanging up the chart next to the door. "We talked about this," she chastised as they walked back to the station and her dinner._

"_What's wrong with him?" Scott ignored, turning every couple seconds to look back. "Something smells profoundly…off…" They got to the front desk and Melissa proceeded to rummage through the bag, prepared to blow him off. But Scott just couldn't stop staring back down the hall at the room. "I've never smelled something like that before."_

"_More werewolf abilities?" she asked after one of her co-workers got up to check on another patient down a different hallway. Scott nodded and she sighed. "I swear to god, Scott, if you repeat any of this—"_

"_I won't. I swear," he said, giving her his most innocent smile in his arsenal._

_She sighed again but nodded, squirting ketchup onto the foil-down paper-up wrapping before her. "That boy in there…David…he has AIDS. He's allergic to most of the drugs that help people manage it and last week he contracted pneumonia; we're trying to do what we can for him."_

"_Is he gonna' make it?"_

_Melissa shrugged, licking a dap of mayonnaise on the side of her mouth as she continued to chew her burger. "Honestly? His chances are pretty slim. He's been fighting since he started high school. One day he was fine and then a bad blood transfusion the next and his life…well 'changed' doesn't even begin to describe. God, I'm sharing too much. Forget I said any of that last stuff. And his name. Scott, why do you do this to me?"_

"_Who was in there with him?" Scott ignored again, picking up one of her fries but dropping it when she smacked the back of his hand._

"_You don't get private information out of me _and_ my fries." Scott shrugged but looked back again. "His sister. Allison. They've only got each other from what I understand. I don't know much more than that…it's not on his chart so I don't ask." She took a sip of her water and looked up at him. "What's going on with you, Scott? You don't normally act like this when you come here. I mean, this is the first patient you've bugged me about in months and I got you to drop that one."_

"_I just…I guess I'm feeling…proactive?"_

"_Scott, you can't," she said, looking at him warningly. "We've talked about this, too."_

"_But what if I can actually help? What if I can actually save his life? You said he's terminal right? What if I just went in there to talk to them? See if he's right for this?"_

"_Scott Garcia McCall. I will not have you gallivanting through this hospital turning terminally-ill patients into werewolves. Am I clear?" Scott nodded fervently and kissed her cheek before leaving, checking back every couple seconds to see her watching him like a hawk._

Scott recalled his words. 'What if I can actually help?' And he had. After his mom's shift ended that morning, he'd snuck back into the hospital and into the room. He came outright and said he was Melissa's son, and that he couldn't help but overhear how sick David was. He learned that Allison had been not only his caregiver for the last number of years, but that she'd always been his strong, protective older sister, especially when their only known living relative—their mother—was busted for buying drugs in San Diego.

To Scott, that forced his decision. He explained to them that he had a cure on hand…a 'miracle cure' he called it. That it had a chance of working but that it came with certain _risks_—mainly death in various forms. David, despite his sister's blatant and hot-tempered reservations, wanted it. Scott nodded and showed them his eyes before biting his forearm. And when it seemed to take, and his condition seemed to be turning around almost instantaneously, Allison threw out her reservations and wanted it, too. She wanted to continue being there for him, even after Scott explained the true nature of the potential dangers ahead.

But now, with Allison's death and the anguish reeking out of David, had he actually helped? That question had haunted him from the moment he retreated into his bedroom last night. It stayed with him until he finally fell asleep in Isaac's arms. And now, it continued to plague his psyche even while the rest of the world threatened to crumble around him in fire.

"Scott?" It was Stiles. He had scooted closer and he was looking at him. "Scott?" Scott blinked and turned to look back at his friend. He even opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing that left Scott were more tears. He crumbled instantly, his eyes reddening right before Stiles pulled him into a brotherly hug, the latter feeling helpless to provide the comfort that Scott needed. And he exchanged his concern in a look with Isaac, who promptly walked over and took Scott into his arms, into his chest. He rested his chin atop his dark hair, closing his eyes and breathing in.

— | BYW | —

Scott's display of emotions seemed to settle just before Derek's SUV pulled up to the McCall residence, lethargy settling in. Of course, Stiles knew he was there before anyone else did—the illegal, hacked CCTV feed proved to be useful after all. They sent a text to Danny, who was with the twins, David, and Lydia at her house, and to Gage, who was with Cooper, the pair of whom were visiting Allison's new resting place.

Derek's pack and Deaton were ushered in rather quickly and Derek, despite his usual hardened exterior, seemed to soften at the sight of Scott, specifically the state he was in. He was curled up into Isaac on the couch, his cheeks red and stained from his now dried eyes and tears, and he looked completely entranced in his sorrow. His eyes were open, but the question of whether they were actually working was one no one could answer but Scott.

"I see you're working for the NSA," Cora said, looking from Stiles to the two large TVs.

"Good to see you, too, Cora," Stiles remarked, flashing a sarcastic smile at her, which she returned in kind.

Derek rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Scott. "Scott," he began, sitting down on the arm next to Isaac, "you need to break yourself out of this. You need to pick yourself up and be strong. Not just for yourself, but for your pack. They need you. They can feel what you're going through and if you don't break this spell, you'll lose them. They need their alpha, just like you need them. Isaac and Stiles are here for you, but that's not enough. You need everyone. You need to be their leader and you need to be as strong as you can for them. I know what you're going through more than anyone. And I'm here for you. My pack is here for you. Deaton is here. But you need to stop sinking into yourself. The 'what if's' are irrelevant. You can only focus on now, and right now, your pack needs you." He looked at Isaac, seeing what impact his alpha was having on his most-loved beta. "Isaac needs you, Scott. Look at him. He's not just hurting because he cares about you, he's hurting because he can feel everything you're going through."

Scott suddenly blinked and lifted his head from Isaac's chest, looking into Derek's green eyes. His lips parted slightly until he looked back into Isaac's face, now worried. He could see what he was doing to Isaac and he knew that's what he was doing to the others. Derek was right. The pack needed him. Isaac needed him. He turned to look back at Derek and nodded, shifting so he could get up. In a surprise move, Derek actually pulled him into a hug. "You're gonna' get through this. I promise. But first, let's get these bastards." Scott nodded and he pulled back to bump into Isaac's chest, the latter of whom wrapped his arms around Scott's waist.

"Argent just passed under the light," Stiles announced. "Do you want to wait for the others to arrive before we get this powwow started?"

Scott nodded but Cora seemed to still begrudge being here. "Stiles, you might wanna' lower your Adderall dose."

— | BYW | —

Danny and company showed up half an hour later; now, they were just waiting on Gage and Cooper to come home, which via voice confirmation, they were on the way. Max finally came downstairs, as he'd holed himself up in the guest room, likely blaming himself for Allison Clare's murder in the same weight as Scott was. Derek's blunt speech seemed to really impact Scott as the true alpha was now motivated to be part of the solution. Isaac was never far from Scott either; even if they weren't in physical contact, the blonde was never more than a few feet away.

"Gage and Cooper are on speaker phone so we can get started," Stiles announced, pointing at his newly set up desktop on the tall table against the wall, the sides of Gage and Cooper's face on the screen via mobile Skype.

"Derek, why don't you go first," Scott said, seated once again on the couch, Isaac now standing behind him and leaning over with his arms half-wrapped around half-resting atop the top of Scott's torso.

"If the clans really are declaring war," Derek proceeded, "we need every pack we can find. I've already spoken to some of my friends—"

"You have other friends?" Stiles mumbled.

"—in some other packs," Derek continued, ignoring the remark. "Most of them are pretty resistant. The alphas don't buy our story, and if they do, they're too scared to upset whatever harmony they've got going for them right now. Nothing like this has happened for centuries, so whipping people into action isn't exactly going to be easy. Good news, one of my friends went to high school with me. He and his brother are driving up from Santa Maria as we speak, despite their alpha's orders." Derek paused and Scott looked to Argent to move on when Derek added one more thing. "No one is gonna' like this idea, but I had to do it: I put out a feeler for Deucalion." The twins exchanged an angered look and even Scott, despite his forgiving nature, frowned. "Look, if they've got Frank Lawton with them, we need some bigger muscle. Deucalion isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and Lawton sure as hell isn't either."

"Who's Frank Lawton," Isaac asked. "Allison mentioned him the other night."

"He's the most ruthless hunter alive," Deaton answered. "He's infamous for taking out whole packs by himself. And more."

"More?" Isaac pushed.

"Other supernatural anomalies, too. Things that aren't relevant now. The point is, if Lawton is in town—"

"He is," Argent said.

"—then Derek's right: we need Deucalion. Given the man's reputation, Deucalion may be the only one capable of defeating him."

"But he's only human, right?" Stiles posed, his brows furrowed. "Won't a bullet from a sniper rifle do the trick?"

"So now you're a murderer, too?" Gage asked, looking at her boyfriend incredulously.

"I'm just saying, if the man _is_ that dangerous, maybe he needs to be stopped. And who says I'm pulling the trigger? Or that the shot would even be lethal?"

"Says the three sniper rifles you've got leaning against three of the windows," Danny replied, looking at him with a smirk.

"My point," Stiles exclaimed, trying to recover the conversation, "is that he's only human, right? If he's so deadly _somehow_, can't he just be taken out like a normal person? I mean, he's not Deathstroke the Terminator is he?" Everyone except for Scott looked at him blankly. "Sorry, bad reference."

"We get your point, Stiles," Deaton assured. "The problem is, no one knows how Frank Lawton acquired his reputation. He's mostly a legend amongst hunters, and even more so an urban legend amongst werewolves. Yes, it's highly possible that you're right. He may just be an ordinary man that just happens to be very skilled. But if his reputation is accurate in any way, we need some more able hands. One that can counter anything he throws your way."

"What if we can find a different type of muscle?" Scott asked.

"Like who?" Argent posed.

"Isaac and I have some friends on the east coast. I mean, it just occurred to me to ask, but they're more than enough. Enough that we don't need Deucalion."

"Call them, then," Derek affirmed. "But Scott, I think you should consider a different option: having both." Scott nodded and began to type into his phone.

"Chris, what did you have?" Deaton said, everyone shifting their attention to the veteran hunter.

"Sully Hancock came to our apartment last night," Argent began, eliciting an alarmed look from Deaton. "Like my brothers, he wants us to step aside. I guess he knew it was a fool's errand because he left us something. On there," he said, pointing to his tablet on the coffee table, "are dossiers on every one of their men. There's also a couple files on where they're camped—with the amount of people they have, they're trying not to attract attention."

"How many are we talking about?" Ethan asked.

"Between my brothers' men, the Ostravosi, and the Silbers, we're looking at almost 300 guys," Chris answered as Stiles picked up the tablet and plugged it into his computer.

"So Allison was right," Scott picked up, "they brought everyone?"

"If not everyone, close to everyone." Argent paused and looked around the room, noting most of the now whitened faces looking distraught. "Good news? Most of them aren't in Beacon Hills. They're preparing a continental operation so most are still in Seattle," Chris said, looking at Max. "But there's a significant branch down here in Beacon Hills. Significant enough that both Alexei Ostravos and Karl Silber are here. And my brothers." When both Derek and Scott looked at him expectant of more details, Chris continued. "Probably 50 guys. And since the patriarchs are here, you can guess that their children are, too. That includes Frank Lawton—he's Karl Silber's godson."

There was a silence in the room as everyone seemed to be mulling over all the information at hand. Fifty hunters, some of which are experts and killers. And even more, to make things worse, a smaller group were like Chris Argent: core members of the clans' families.

"What if I just turn myself in?" Max asked, breaking the silence.

"It's Max, right?" Argent began, earning a nod from the teen. "Did you kill Michael Ostravos?" Max shook his head. "Then you're not going to be a scapegoat for the real killer. You're just a boy, and the code that we hunters are supposed to live by forbids us from taking an innocent's life. I spared Scott once before," he said, looking at Scott, "even when I felt most threatened by him. But that's what we're supposed to do," he continued, turning back to Max. "We only 'Hunt those who hunt us' and we 'Defend those who cannot defend themselves.' Even in this situation, the code still stands." Max nodded and even though Scott gave him a reassuring look, he still seemed to sink into his chair.

"Scott," came Lydia's voice—she still seemed extremely shaken by yesterday's events, especially since she knew Allison so well and spent time with her every time Lydia came home from Harvard. "Last time you got mad that I called Jackson without telling you…but it sounds like you need all the help you can get and…"

"It's okay, Lydia," Scott reassured. "Call him—we need him."

"I know this is a longshot," Deaton began again, "but I think there's another avenue you should consider." Everyone looked at him, intent on listening to every word 'their wise man' had to offer. "Meet with them on diplomatic terms. Talk."

"I really don't think that's gonna'—" Argent tired.

"In all _drôle de guerre_, neither side has taken the opportunity to try and prevent full war from breaking out. At the dawn of World War I, instead of allowing declarations of war to fall like dominos, the Austrian Empire should have sought out a diplomatic solution rather than giving the Serbians an ultimatum. Instead of invading the Middle East after 9/11, we could have used some other means rather than a full force invasion."

"No offense, _sensei_," Stiles replied, "but isn't that wishful thinking? We're kinda' dealing with a Hitler here aren't we?" Argent looked at him, amused at the comparison. "You know what I mean. Here's a guy, or two, that mean serious business and no amount of talking is gonna' prevent them from killing everybody."

"You actually paid attention in history class," Cora remarked, earning her a glare from Gage.

"My point, Stiles," Deaton picked up, "is that no one ever wants to try. You lose nothing by trying, and you gain everything if you do. What's the bottom line if you try? You walk away with no change but you gain the knowledge that you've done everything you can to stop this."

"Or it turns into an ambush and they slaughter everyone," Van offered.

"He's right," Derek affirmed. "What guarantee do we have that they wouldn't just try and kill all of us at the meeting?"

"We don't," Deaton agreed. "But that's why we play it smart, and cautious. I have an idea as how to do just that…"

* * *

**Author's Note**: OC Visualizers (Derek's Pack):

_Barrett James_: Collins Pennie

_Danielle Carter_: Odette Annable

_Evan "Van" Traverse_: Drew Roy


	6. Beacon Hills Sour

**| CHAPTER SIX, Beacon Hills Sour |**

"Chris is setting up the meeting?" Deaton asked to confirm as they walked into now Scott's clinic.

"And Allison's doing recon," Scott replied, Derek, Isaac, and Stiles right behind them. "You actually left stuff here?"

"I was pretty sure I'd be back, so I left a few things here. Most of them I haven't even used since I've been in Beacon Hills." Deaton had them wait in the main examination room as he left to the back.

"I thought you swept the whole place for any more…_things_," Stiles said, looking at Scott.

"I did," Scott grumbled, shrugging as Deaton emerged from the back with a small ceramic flower pot. The black-painted, glazed flower pot had a piece of saran wrap over the top, covering what looked to be a pewter, almost black substance; when he removed the cover, it looked like he was carrying a pot of mountain ash.

"That isn't a dead relative or anything is it?" Stiles asked as his former mentor placed it onto the stainless-steel examination table.

Deaton only shot him a look before turning his attention to Scott and Isaac. "Who has a better imagination?" They looked at each other, not really knowing how to answer. "Whose is more vivid?" They still looked at each other as if they were having a silent argument about the lunacy coming out of the man's mouth. "Never mind. Isaac," he pressed ahead and they both snapped their attention back to him, "in the pack, what are your responsibilities?"

"Um," he began, a little unsure as to what to say as he'd never had to list them out. "I'm Scott's second-in-command. If he's absent, I'm charged with making sure the pack functions and survives."

"What else?"

Isaac looked at Scott. "I protect my alpha at all costs. He comes first before anyone else, even myself." Scott beamed at him, a loving yet sickeningly adorable grin across his lips.

"Precisely. You'd place yourself in harm's way in order to protect him? Take a bullet for him?" Isaac nodded but blushed a little.

"This task is for you, then." Isaac nodded and tried devout any of his attention that had been absent to what would come out of Deaton's mouth next. "Remember back when you tried capture Jackson at the rave—I'm going to teach you what I taught Stiles." Deaton looked to his former pupil standing next to him, who was in turn looking puzzled back at him. "As a werewolf," Deaton continued, looking back at Isaac, "you've encountered mountain ash barriers many times. To say the least they're frustrating, right?" Isaac nodded. "Mountain ash comes from rowan trees, which are believed by many cultures to protect from the supernatural. That's why only humans can touch it, or, in its powder form, connect or breach it."

"That's why Stiles had to form the barrier back then," Isaac affirmed.

"Correct. That's why what Scott did to break Jennifer's barrier is so remarkable."

"So, if only humans can do anything with this stuff, why is this my task, then?"

"Because we're not protecting you from the supernatural; we're protecting the supernatural from the natural." Everyone's faces furrowed, now completely lost. "The common Latin name for rowan trees is _Sorbus aucuparia_, meaning that its genus—"

"Is _Sorbus_," Isaac answered, and Derek actually looked impressed with him. "I'm a bio-major."

"Rowan trees have a…_cousin_…shall we say. It's called _Sorbus aria_, commonly known as 'whitebeam.' Any guesses as to what it does?"

"It's a substance that protects the supernatural," Derek answered. "My mother told me about it…she said that it was rare to find."

"It is, in a way. Whitebeam trees are common throughout the world, but the knowledge of their use is only known to the original order of druids. I happen to know one of them."

"So that isn't mountain ash, then?" Isaac asked and Deaton shook his head with a smile.

"This is whitebeam. Its relation to mountain ash is the reason why all of your senses are telling you otherwise; they're nearly indistinguishable from each other. But when a human touches it like this," he said, prodding the mound with two of his fingers and causing them to be repulsed back, "it clearly reacts in an adverse way. Even this pot is special: underneath the coat of glaze is a paint mixed with mountain ash. This is a powerful substance, arguably more potent than its cousin. That's why, Isaac, you have to create a barrier once we get there, because its more powerful than you think. I'll show you." Deaton motioned for Isaac to step out into the more open floor, pushing a few pieces of equipment out of the way. "Isaac, have you seen how we can toss a handful of mountain ash into the air and it suddenly spreads out into a perfect circle?"

"No, but Scott mentioned Jennifer did something like that at the distillery."

"The power behind these powders require a spark of sorts. Yes, touching it seems like it's always working. But as you can see, I can move my hand over it just fine," he continued, hovering his hand over the pot in his hand. "In order to make its barrier properties function, you have to ignite it."

"Ignite it?"

"Let me try this analogy—when I first taught Stiles, this one seemed to work well. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind, and their mind takes over."

"So I have to…_imagine_…it working?"

"That's why I asked about your imaginations. When a druid throws a handful of mountain ash over their head, there usually isn't nearly enough powder in their hand. But it's that spark of imagination that forces the barrier into a perfect circle, and into full fruition." He held out the pot to Isaac and the beta dipped his hand in to grab a handful. Deaton stepped back towards the others while Isaac centered himself in the space. He looked down at the black powder in his hand, trying to concentrate. "If it helps, concentrate on your desire to protect Scott; it can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish." Isaac looked down again, and then up at Scott.

"It's okay, Isaac," Scott encouraged. "Relax. Breathe."

"Would it help to see it first?" Deaton asked, stepping forward again.

"How come he gets a demonstration?" Stiles asked.

"Because the balance is threatened right now, Stiles, and we don't have much time."

"The balance?" Isaac asked.

"That's best left for another conversation," Deaton pushed as he dug into his pocket, switching places with the blonde. "Now, Isaac, I want you to watch closely. After I do this, I want you to visualize every motion I go through in your mind. I want you to imagine yourself going through these motions. But at the same time, you have to intend this to work. You have to intend the shape to take form. You have to intend for the power to ignite. You have to intend to protect Scott. Does that make sense?" Isaac nodded and glanced at Scott. Deaton nodded and Isaac refocused on the druid before he threw his hand up straight over his head and released the mountain ash. And like magic, just as Deaton said it would, it formed a perfect circle around him, looking like a black chalk outline but as a perfect shape.

"Wow," Isaac exclaimed. "I, uh, yeah that's gonna' be hard."

"Isaac," Deaton said with a reassuring smile, "if this is going to work, you have to believe it will." Suddenly, as Isaac blinked, all of the mountain ash appeared back in Deaton's palm.

"How did you—"

"One step at a time. Now, I want you to try. Remember: imagination and intention." Isaac nodded, looking back at Scott as he walked out to where Deaton had been standing. He looked down at the powder in his hand before closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He opened them again, exhaled, and threw his arm up over his head like Deaton, releasing his hand. But when the powder fell, it just fell. It landed in his hair and on his shoulders. It piled around his feet and he even had to blink a piece or two out of his eyes. He hung his head and swore under his breath when he felt Scott near him.

"This isn't gonna' work, Scott," he admitted in defeat.

"Don't give up," Scott reassured. "We still have a few hours until the meeting so keep trying. We're counting on you."

"Great, thanks for the added pressure," Isaac teased, daring to look up at Scott.

"Okay, _I'm _counting on you. I believe in you, Isaac. You can do this; just concentrate."

"I just don't think I've got the touch for—"

Scott had interrupted him with a tender kiss, moving his hands up to the blonde's muscular upper arms. He pulled back and looked into Isaac's closed eyes, feeling his panting breath on his lips. "Just concentrate," Scott whispered and Isaac nodded. Scott walked back over to the others and Deaton leaned forward a little so Isaac could grab another handful of powder. He closed his eyes again and took in another breath. When he finally opened his eyes again, this time they landed right on Scott and he threw his arm up. This time, however, the powder seemed to dissolve off of his skin and when he looked down there lay a perfect circle around him. Unlike the mountain ash, the powder seemed to glow white and at its base, just a few inches above the ground, shined a beam that resembled a halo.

"This is…" Isaac tried to comment, crouching down to look at the details of the sight before him.

"Scott, why don't you walk into the circle," Deaton suggested. Scott walked forward and though he 'broke' the beam, it just continued to shine and reconnect like a flashlight. "Now," Deaton continued as Scott took Isaac's hand and squeezed, "there's something even more special about this barrier than just its appearance. Scott, recall what happened to my sister when the alphas were chasing her. What happened?"

Scott thought for a minute, even looking up at the ceiling to remove some of the distractions around him. "Kali and the twins couldn't get through it, but they circled her. She was trapped even though she was safe."

"Then what? How did she eventually get out?"

"She…Deucalion forced her out. He threw his cane at her and she stumbled out."

"Exactly," Deaton replied, before abruptly reaching over to Stiles and drawing out his sidearm and firing it at Scott. Everyone flinched and panicked. Derek moved to kill Deaton while Stiles moved, albeit too slowly, to force his arm in a different direction. And Isaac, he tried to wedge himself in front of Scott when Deaton surrendered the gun, Derek's clawed hands around the druid's neck. "Everyone calm down," he said, a blue-tinted blade resting against Derek's abdomen. The alpha released Deaton as Stiles retrieved his pistol, looking over at his best friend. He was unharmed. Unscathed. It was a perfect shot, and yet, there was nothing. "I'm sorry for being so brisk, but something exactly like that could happen at the meeting. As you can see," he explained as Isaac and Scott turned their attention back to him, albeit still a little alarmed, "the bullet didn't penetrate, and if you think back, you didn't hear a ricochet either."

"What happened to it?" Isaac asked, still clinging to Scott a little, checking every two seconds or so for blood.

"It disintegrated. The barrier around you only let's a few things through: the supernatural, air, sound, light, and other whitebeam. With the exception of the first, all things that helped it grow while it was alive or related to it; anything natural to it, to be precise."

"So if, say, the hunters release wolfsbane gas, they'll be protected?" Stiles asked.

"Precisely," Deaton answered.

"My phone doesn't work in here," Scott said after he'd pulled out his device. "Interesting."

"Alright, Isaac, I want you to try something else," Deaton said after looking around to see no one else had any questions. "Close your eyes. Imagine the whitebeam as just powder once again. Remove all of the supernatural visuals from it. It's just black dust lined up around you. Now zoom in on it and imagine the specs starting to dance, much in the way pebbles and other debris would during an earthquake. Imagine them start to dance violently, defying gravity to such a degree, increasing, increasing, and increasing until suddenly they all rise up off the ground and shoot up into the palm of your hand." Deaton paused, waiting for a second, all eyes on Isaac. "Now open your eyes and look at your hand." Isaac complied and as he looked, everyone else followed and saw that the barrier had in fact disappeared and all remnants of the whitebeam, even the particles from the beta's first attempt, had now reappeared in his hand.

"That's…incredible…" Isaac said, looking down disbelievingly. Deaton held the pot out again and Isaac emptied the contents into it.

"It's actually even more amazing than that," Stiles began. "It kinda' works like a Lantern Ring." Everyone, except for Scott, looked at him blankly. "Bad reference again?" he asked, looking at Scott, who promptly nodded but gave him a reassuring look nonetheless.

_Bzzz, bzzz. Bzzz, bzzz._ Scott looked down at his phone and read the incoming texts. "The meeting's been set. Somewhere out of the way," he added, looking at Derek.

"When and where?" Derek asked.

"Eight o'clock…at the abandoned distillery."

— | BYW | —

"Yeah, tell them not to wait," Scott said as Stiles followed behind Derek's SUV, David driving behind them and the Argents ahead of Derek. "They're at the airport? Good. The sooner they get here the better—I'm not placing much on this meeting." … "If everything does work out, we can just have a huge werewolf barbeque or something." … "I don't know, Lydia, we'll work something out. Their financials are really the least of my concerns right now. Tell Jackson to ask his dad." … "Yes, for _eight_ tickets. It's not my fault their pack is the size it is." … "Look, I gotta' go; we're here." … "Thanks."

"So Jackson finally has a pack?" Stiles asked. Scott nodded and looked out of the window as they pulled up to an entrance to the preserve that was closer to the distillery.

"Tyler just texted me," Isaac began as they parked. "They should be landing in an hour."

"It'll be good to see them," Scott replied. "Even under these circumstances." Isaac nodded and they got out to see the two combined packs, the Argents, the druids, and two unfamiliar faces.

"Scott, this is Steven McNamara," Derek introduced as Scott shook hands with the older one of the two, "and his brother, Shane."

Scott shook the other's and Steven began. "So, you're the true alpha?" Scott nodded. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you've managed to turn a couple hunters to your side."

"It helps to have dated one, first," Stiles remarked and most of Scott's pack shot him a glare, Isaac and Allison's the most deathly. Steven smirked and looked at Derek, giving the older alpha a nod.

Scott turned to Allison. "Everything in the clear?"

"Surveillance shows no traps have been set. There's seven of them in there…the rest of their men are lined up outside." She showed Scott and Derek her tablet and they took a look for themselves.

"Who's who?" Scott asked.

"These are my brothers, Clark and Courtney," Chris began, pointing at the various bodies on the screen. "These are the Silber brothers, Edward and Benji. These are the Ostravos siblings, Gregory and Natasha. And this is Sully, the man I was telling you about."

"No sign of this Lawton guy?" Scott asked.

"It's possible he's outside with the rest, but given his profile I'd say he's probably offsite with Alexei and Karl."

"Or he's in the woods with a .50 cal,'" Stiles commented. "The dude's a fuckin' black ops commando." Scott gave him a look and Stiles quieted down again.

"Shall we, then?" Argent said, dressed in all black and armed to the teeth—as was Allison. There were some nods and the large group began to walk towards the distillery that was at least a good mile in.

"Remember, no fatalities if something goes wrong," Scott pressed. "And they make the first move."

"It's your rodeo," Steven replied.

The abandoned distillery eventually came into view, although at the moment 'abandoned' seemed like a very unfitting term. Before the distillery's entrance were at least a dozen and a half hunters lined up in front of the left side, several of them decked out in full mercenary-like attire and equipment.

"We're not picking up any outliers," Aiden said as the twins were tasked with scanning for extra men in the distance.

"Neither is surveillance," Allison added, several infrared cameras she placed in the woods showing no activity. Scott nodded and the group began to form into two separate groups: those who would go in and those who wouldn't. While the twins and Allison stayed outside to more-or-less lead/control the rest of the werewolves, each of whom were eager for a fight to end this all, and some of whom were even more eager to avenge Allison Clare, seven others went inside.

Chris walked in first, shooting his nephew an acknowledging look as he passed by, followed by Deaton, Derek, Scott, Isaac, Max, and Stiles. On the other side of the room were the seven hunters Argent had pointed out several minutes ago, surrounded by a comfortable-sized circle of mountain ash. Scott and Isaac exchanged a knowing look and the beta, on his first attempt, cast a perfect barrier of their own. The hunters seemed a little taken aback, but made no attempts to move. "It's odd seeing you over there," Clarence Argent began, looking at his older brother.

"It's odd seeing you at all, Clark," Chris retorted.

Scott stepped forward in front of Chris. "We didn't come here to settle a brotherly dispute," he said, looking from the older Argent to the one across the room. "I'm Scott McCall. Obviously we've never met, but I'm familiar with you all."

"I'm sure I speak for all of us," Hancock began, "when I say I'm _not_ familiar with everyone. We know Alan and Mr. Hale, but the others, I'm sure we only have intuitive guesses."

"This is Stiles, my pack's emissary," Scott said. "Isaac is my second-in-command, and Max is more-or-less a new addition to my pack."

"New addition?" began the man previously identified as Gregory Ostravos.

"He was an omega until two nights ago," Scott affirmed, knowing what he was implying.

"He's the one that killed our brother," said the woman identified as Natasha Ostravos, her hand moving to her holstered gun.

"Do you have proof of that?" Chris asked, looking at her specifically.

"We do," she challenged.

"Do you?" Scott challenged back. "Because he's been asked that question over and over, and every time his heartbeat indicates otherwise. So I'd like to see this 'proof' before anyone thinks about apprehending him." Natasha looked at her brother and by all indications—heartbeat, body language, facial expression—it seemed like their proof was likely circumstantial at best. "We'd like to settle things," Scott pushed. "Without bloodshed." He looked back at Deaton, and then back to the hunters. "We think you do, too."

"What makes you think that?" Clarence replied.

"Why else would you show up?" Derek offered.

"To see if the 'true alpha' really is what they say he is," Gregory answered.

"From where I'm standing," Scott continued, "this war has gone on long enough. There've been too many deaths on both sides, your brother Michael and my beta Allison being the most recent. I can't speak for your brother, but Allison never harmed anyone. In fact, she only took the bite to continue looking after her brother, who by all rights deserves justice. He's out there if you'd like to bring the perpetrator forward, but I won't ask you to do that."

"Yet, you'd rather just taunt us with one of your own," Natasha exclaimed.

"I didn't ask for this all to happen. I didn't ask for any of the things that've happened since I became a werewolf. But when I made my pack, I chose those who I could save, and those who I knew would use the bite as a second chance. So when Max showed up at my door. I offered him the same. I didn't ask for him to arrive, but I took him in anyways, and it only earned me pain. You killed her and you didn't even know who he was until now. You assume he's the killer, and so you killed one of my own without second thought."

"We had _several_ thoughts, actually," Clarence replied. "My sister, my father—"

"Which weren't my pack."

"—Michael. Edward and Benji even lost their brother to your so-called 'bite.'"

"Your families' honor code took their brother," Derek returned. "And your sister killed most of my family, many of whom were innocent. Some of them were even human children. Besides, I take no ownership of my deceased psychopathic uncle's actions. As far as I'm concerned, Kate made him that way."

"Don't lecture me about 'honor codes,' Hale," Edward Silber argued. "That symbol over there is the very reason this war escalates all the time."

"Try telling that to Deucalion," Scott returned, looking at the older Silber sibling before shifting his gaze to Clarence. "He tried to broker a peace in this very building with _your_ father. And what did Gerard do? He bashed everyone's head in with a spiked mace; even some of his own men's."

"So we're expected to believe you come here with just the same intention?" Benjamin Silber said, stepping up next to his brother. "Why should we trust any word that comes out of your mouth?"

"That's a reasonable question," Scott replied, and the room suddenly went quiet. He paused for a moment, careful to look each of his opponents directly in the eyes. "As you know, that symbol is our sign for 'revenge,'" he proceeded, pointing and looking over at it. "But to my pack, it means something else; I mean it to mean something else. It means 'justice.'" He looked back at them. "But today isn't about justice. I'm no killer. My pack doesn't kill. So even if you brought Allison's killer out, what would we do? Nothing. Because nothing will bring David's sister back. And nothing will bring Michael back, even if Max _is_ somehow the killer.

"No, we're not here for justice. We're here for peace. That's what I want, and what I want, my pack wants. And I think you want it, too. Cooper…" he signaled, and suddenly the clawed metal began to burn as a new set of claws dug into it. In seconds, the spiral that Ennis had formed all those years ago vanished and in its place was a new symbol. It was Scott's symbol that he'd dreamt about because of the nemeton. Two lines, the top bigger than the other. Rounded out into two spheres, the top encompassing the bottom. He pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to reveal the matching tattoo and turned to show it to them. "When I was a teenager, this meant 'open wound.' But over the years, as I've grown older, as I've learned more about the world, it's meant 'peace;' only the last 24 hours has it meant 'open wound' once again. I want to close that wound, starting tonight. Starting now."

A silent conversation seemed to occur as the younger hunters began to float around a series of looks, it once even being directed at Hancock. Finally, the looks all seemed to stop and Gregory was left with the next words. "What do you want?"

"To graduate college," Scott answered and he actually elicited a smirk from the Russian-American standing across from him. "I want things to go back to the way they were. Beacon Hills under my protection with my pack able to roam freely, without having to look over their shoulder for fear of a new hunter in town. I want the code in place because despite the fact that I'm a werewolf, I'm a person first, and anyone who hunts others needs to be stopped. But my pack—Derek's pack—we don't hunt. We live. That's what I want."

"And in return?"

"Maybe I can try and change the way werewolves behave in the future. Maybe I can prevent more serial killings from running up and down the coasts of this country."

"You're alluding to the Weldon alpha."

Scott nodded. "And you know how I handled that? I tipped off Chris, who brought him to justice. By the code." Scott paused again, gathering his words. "Maybe my pack can be a force for good. And maybe, just maybe we can be a force for good _together_."

"And if we prove your new beta is the killer…"

"You can have him," Scott assured him, looking back at Max with a look of confidence.

"Well there won't be any need for that," came a voice from above them. Suddenly, a werewolf dropped down to his feet and he smiled at them as he stood and his eyes glowed red. "Max didn't kill your brother…I did."

* * *

**Author's Note**: First I need to give credit to HBO's _Boardwalk Empire_. The meeting is inspired by the meeting at the start of Season 4 in Episode 1, "New York Sour" (hence this chapter's title), where Nucky Thompson tries to broker peace between his gang and those under two of his opposition, led by Arnold Rothstein and Joe Masseria respectively. Some of the lines are exactly the same, and much of the structure of how the back and forth goes resembles the conversation in that episode's scene. The scene itself can be found on YouTube, just search "Boardwalk Empire Gangster Peace Meeting."

There's several new characters so here are the OC visualizers:

Hunters

_Sullivan Hancock_: F. Murray Abraham (forgot his in Chapter 4)

_Grigori "Gregory" Ostravos_: Christian Slater

_Natasha "Tasha" Ostravos_: Claire Forlani

_Edward Silber_: Timothy Olyphant

_Benjamin "Benji" Silber_: Jack Noseworthy

_Neil Argent_ (the nephew mentioned): Shawn Roberts

McNamara brothers

_Steven McNamara_: Johnny Pacar

_Shane McNamara_: Nick Eversman (originally cast as Ryan Kelley, but he was cast in the show before I could write this chapter-thankfully, I suppose)


	7. A Pack Without Honor

**| CHAPTER SEVEN, A Pack Without Honor |**

_Suddenly, a werewolf dropped down to his feet and he smiled at them as he stood and his eyes glowed red. "Max didn't kill your brother…I did."_

"Austin…?" Derek began when everything unhinged. Everyone but Derek turned to look outside as a few roars erupted and the sound of rapid gunfire filled their ears. When Scott actually distinguished what was happening, it wasn't his people that were attacking, although they were certainly being shot at. It was this new alpha's betas, tearing through the hunters posted outside, two of them even jumping down from the rooftop. Scott went to break the barrier when Stiles held him back just as Natasha Ostravos fired her weapon in their direction, several of the others near her firing at the evasive alpha that had appeared.

"Snipers!" they heard one of the twins yell as large caliber fire sounded off in various distances and directions.

"We have to get out of here," Scott said panicked. "We have to get out there and help them. Any ideas?"

"Stiles and I can lay down some suppressing fire," Argent offered, looking from the young alpha to his brothers across the room. Stiles nodded and Scott crouched down to break the barrier and as if on cue, Natasha opened fire. Everyone moved as quickly and evasively as they could, Derek covering Deaton while Isaac covered Scott who covered Max, Stiles aiming between the gap that had formed between the opposing group and Argent aiming at the huntress' feet.

When they broke out into the forest, many of the hunters had fallen back towards the tree line and were firing at anything that moved. But this new pack had expected that and on top of them being able to evade the fire, two more came out from the trees behind them and began to tear through their ranks. "Move!" Scott ordered. "Back to the cars!" he yelled, helping lift a shoulder-shot Cooper to his feet with Danny's help. They high tailed it the best they could, Allison and her father dropping a half-dozen smoke grenades while Stiles took blind shots through the rising mist. But return fire still remained a problem, and although it was blind, many of them came close. And the snipers, they came even closer.

Stiles suddenly fell to the ground when a shot grazed his calf. The packs moved on ahead, Scott running back to help. He grabbed Allison as Argent bent down to help Stiles to his feet when one sniper burst didn't have a collision sound. Scott looked between the four of them, having been the only one that caught onto the discrepancy, and that's when he smelled it. It was blood and melted flesh. He saw it, too, a dark gooey trickle from the exit wound, the man almost frozen in place before he collapsed. Only when he hit the ground did Scott fully process what had just happened: Chris Argent was dead.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaad!" Allison cried, and Scott had to force his arms around her torso to drag her away, Isaac suddenly appearing and grabbing Stiles from the ground. He only had a split second to force the four of them to the ground, though, when two more synchronous shots fired in their direction, one of them clipping Scott's jacket in his fall.

"Allison!" Scott yelled, his eyes burning red as he crawled on top of her, trying to keep her from wiggling out of his hold as she tried to get up and retaliate. Scott slightly exposed himself and he was forced to roll off as another shot nearly shattered his spine or blew through his organs. They were pinned and the amount of rapid fire had increased—and the roars were no more. The hunters were pushing back this other pack and more and more fire seemed to be getting closer.

"We've got four of 'em here!" they heard an unknown voice yell from at least 50 feet away and the sound of a reloading shotgun followed.

"Scott…" Stiles panicked, reaching for his ankle-pistol stowed in his unwounded leg. A look passed between the four of them, each ready to make their own move when Scott suddenly heard an unfamiliar sound. It was a rip in the sky, and then a rip, and finally a boom. He looked and watched as a figure came crashing down between the trees. And when he landed, forming a crater a few feet from them, Scott recognized the familiar blond-haired warlock. A number of hunters turned their attention to the newly arrived Reid Garwin and opened fire, including several of the snipers; their efforts, however, were in vain.

The bullets or buckshot just seemed to stop inches from him, as if colliding with some sort of magnetic barrier around him as they just remained in place, all kinetic energy drained from them. He turned his attention on his immediate adversaries and launched a shockwave of energy at them, flinging them yards away hard into the ground. Several most sniper shots collided with his barrier and he closed his jet black eyes for a second, allowing two more shots to hit 'him' when he exhaled a ghastly thick pale mist from his mouth. It split into five parts and dissolved. For a second, there was only the rapid fire far off and a few more shots when there were five death screams off in the distance. He looked around, surveying the area before rounding on Scott and his friends, his black formal coat billowing in the wind as he turned to help Stiles to his feet.

"You're a godsend," Isaac said, clasping hands with the warlock as Scott followed Allison to upright positions. She ran over to her father's lifeless body and began to weep, her movements erratic as she didn't know how to fully comprehend all that had happened and all that was happening.

"Reid, can you do anything for him…for _her_?" Scott asked, looking grimly at the sight of Allison hunched over Chris Argent, his insides wrenching once again. He felt it all over again, like a band-aid being torn off and blood gushing from the wound. He stepped back, his eyes transfixed on the anguish before him. But this time, there was Isaac pulling Scott into him, stepping in front of the sight as Reid bent down next to Allison to see if there _was_ anything he could do.

There was a pause for a second, Scott almost devoid of all sounds around him until Stiles spoke. "Scott, we need to go." Scott turned to look at his best friend and saw him shake his head before looking back down at Chris Argent. "Allison, go with Scott. Reid and I will…"

"I-I…I can't…he can't…Scott…please…" she wept. Isaac looked at Reid and the blonde nodded, taking Scott from him before leading him away towards the cars.

Isaac grabbed Allison and forced her away, both hands on her wrists, her back to him as he wrestled with her. "Allison! Allison we have to go. We're not gonna' leave him, I promise." She finally started to settle and nodded lightly, not once taking her eyes off her father. Isaac released her and she remained still, allowing him to crouch down with Stiles to try and lift Argent. But there was Reid again and Isaac saw Scott leaning against a tree, his eyes closed, not wanting to accept reality. "Reid, what're you—"

"Both of you stand back," the warlock ordered. "I'm gonna' try something." Isaac and Stiles exchanged a look before getting to their feet, Isaac helping him limp away. Reid closed his once again normal eyes and breathed, placing his fingerless-gloved hand on the hole in Argent's chest. He stayed like that for moment, motionless.

"Reid, what're you—" Isaac began.

"Shh," Reid silenced. "I'm listening. Just…quiet."

They all looked at him, Scott's eyes now open and Allison's weeping turning into a mix of despair and hope, her hand covering her mouth. Suddenly, a rumble sounded overhead and Reid opened his eyes. They were black again and he looked down, slowly lifting his hand as he watched Argent's flesh mend. The blonde lifted his other hand towards the sky and the sky cracked right before a bolt of lightning struck a small sphere in Reid's hand. Instantly, he smashed it into Argent's chest and the man's eyes shot open, letting out a bloodied cough.

"Dad…?" Allison whispered, wide-eyed.

"We need to go," Reid said, looking around again and Isaac heard what alarmed him—the hunters from far off were closing in. Reid got to his feet and Isaac helped a _somehow_ revived Chris Argent to his feet.

"How did you…?" Scott began when Isaac grabbed the alpha by the arm and led them off towards the cars, Reid helping Stiles limp and Allison clinging to her father.

"I'll explain later."

— | BYW | —

"Is everyone alright?" Derek asked after everyone arrived at the McCall house, the residence now getting a little crowded. Deaton tended to Cooper's exit-wound shot while Reid quickly healed Stiles' leg.

"Where's Tyler?" Scott asked, having been broken from his spell during the drive home, no longer devastated as Chris Argent was up and alive.

"That's the first thing you want to ask me?" Reid replied amusedly taking a seat on one of the arms of the sofa, looking from Scott to Allison to Chris. When no one pushed for the elephant in the room, he continued. "He's driving here as we speak; he landed a few minutes ago." Scott looked at him, totally lost and Reid smirked, especially noting that the rest of the room didn't know who he was and that none of them had any clue about his powers or what had happened with Argent. "Maybe we should talk somewhere else?"

"We can," Scott agreed, "but let me ask you this, first: we're definitely at war now…are you gonna' fight with us to the end?"

Reid looked from Scott, to Isaac, and then around the room. "I wouldn't have jumped out of a plane to save your neck if I weren't."

"Wait, you what?" Stiles said.

"Hi, everyone," Reid continued, "I'm Reid Garwin and I'm a magic addict." When he didn't elicit the response he was hoping for, and only got a few smirks, he looked at Scott curiously.

"Notice anyone missing?" Scott tried. Reid looked around and then, after spotting David, nodded. "The hunters you warded off…they killed her yesterday evening." Any sense of amusement Reid had immediately evaporated. Scott's texts had had the sense of urgency, but he read them as Scott possibly being overdramatic or he felt it as some TV/movie where he and Tyler would sweep in and save the day—his recent newfound limitless power still hadn't impressed in him that the world around him was still suffering.

"I'm sorry," Reid offered, catching David's eye, the beta nodding a little.

"What you did for Chris," Scott continued, "is there any way you can do that for Allison?"

"She's been gone since yesterday, right?" Reid asked and Scott nodded. "Then there's nothing I can do. I didn't bring Chris back _through_ magic, I _used_ magic to bring him back." Scott's eyebrow raised.

"Magic?" Argent asked skeptically.

"I wasn't completely kidding before," Reid said, looking around the room again. "Scott's pack knows this: I'm a warlock," he answered, his eyes flaming to black; Argent subconsciously placed his hand on his gun and even Derek took a step back.

"You're one of the _nuinn_?" Deaton said more than asked, sizing up the younger man before them. Reid only nodded, making a mental note.

"So, Allison?" Scott pressed.

"Think of it like this: if she'd been brought into an E.R., the nurses and doctors would do everything they can to revive a patient. Closing wounds, removing bullets, treating burns, etc. But everything they use to do that is medicine and technology, right? In this situation, my tools were magic. I closed his wound and essentially jump started his heart. He'd only been down for a few minutes, and like with a doctor, I was working with a closing window."

"So, could you bring my sister back _through_ magic?" David asked, a twinge of hope adding to the smells in the air.

But Reid shook his head, causing Gage to pull her younger pack mate into her. "Unfortunately, with all the power that I have, even with the limitless now, I can't bring someone back from the dead. That's an external restriction I have no control over. That's why," he elucidated, looking at Isaac, "I needed the quiet. When I was over him," he said, motioning to Chris. "I…we…this is going to sound strange, but I can hear death's voice when I get too close to breaking the order in the world."

"This is 'the balance,' Isaac," Deaton pointed out.

"Before, I was listening for that voice, to see if I was about to…_upset the balance_? If I tried to revive your sister," Reid continued, looking back at David, "I know I'd do that. And not only would I not be able to bring your sister back, but it'd probably kill me, too."

"Think of it this way," Deaton added. "And sorry if I make you uncomfortable, Stiles, but you remember when we were dealing with the _oni_ and the _nogitsune_?" Isaac nodded. "The many different types of them represent the spectrum of the natural world, with 'good and evil' at opposite ends—well, simplistically speaking. Everything in between is all grey area, and my job—Stiles' job—is to maintain a balance of the spectrum. We're meant to be impartial guiders of the world, making sure that it doesn't tip in favor of one or the other."

"I've always thought of it like being a green lantern," Stiles tried again. "Red is evil, violet is good, and the others are all the grey."

"I actually got that one," Isaac said with a shrug and Stiles grinned at his success.

"I don't mean to interrupt comic-con here," Aiden began, "but what the hell just happened back there?"

"Yeah, Scott," Danny seconded. "What happened in there? And who were those other werewolves?"

"Things were actually going somewhere," Scott answered. "I actually thought we could strike a deal but then...this alpha showed up."

"His name's Austin," Derek offered, forcing everyone to look at him. "Austin Rush. He's an alpha up in Washington…and he's my cousin."

"Your…?" Stiles questioned.

"My cousin," Derek confirmed. "And he's your alpha, isn't he?" he said, looking at Max.

"I _was_ his alpha," came a voice from the top of the stairs. Almost everyone seated got to their feet, everyone taking some manner of defensive positions. "This is quite the rag-tag group you've got here, Derek," he continued as his waist came into view.

"What're you doing here, Austin?"

"I came to meet my allies," he said sarcastically, reminiscent of Peter's tone.

"What're you doing in Beacon Hills?" Scott said, taking up position shoulder-to-shoulder with Derek, Isaac right behind him.

"Ah, the 'true alpha,'" Austin said, stepping in front of them so he was in full-view. "I'm here to see the hunters' fall. I orchestrated it after all." _Clack_. Chris Argent had lined his pistol with the alpha's head, only two feet separating them. "Easy, _patriarch_." Austin's eyes darted over his shoulder and suddenly a clawed hand wrapped around Allison's throat. And then one around Lydia's. And Stiles.' "Now that we've all got out threats on the table, can we talk?"

Argent lowered his gun and Scott turned his attention to the alpha. "I've _talked_ to psychopaths before," Scott began. "They've always betrayed my trust and it never ends well for them."

"If you're talking about Peter, please don't lump me in with him. I'm only here for one thing: revenge."

"So petty revenge got one of my pack killed?" Scott said, his face furrowing in disgust.

"It's not petty!" Austin snapped, his cool demeanor gone in a split moment.

Scott looked around the room again, eyeing his threatened friends. He turned back to Austin and breathed out heavily. "Let my friends go and we can talk…I promise…"

"Are you sure, 'true alpha?'" he replied as if he'd never lost his cool. "You still may not like what I have to say. Because, yes, I did inadvertently get one of your betas killed. But it was still worth it."

Scott frowned before looking back at Reid. "I suggest you release them," Scott began, turning back to the alpha before him, "or you can force my hand." The adverse alpha smirked harder and motioned with his head towards the one holding Allison. She let go of the huntress and the other two followed suit.

"I ask again," Derek continued, "what're you doing here, Austin?"

"Brandon is dead."

Derek didn't answer at first and Scott turned to look at him questioningly. "How?" he finally said, sorrow quickly dawning across his face.

"It doesn't matter," Austin replied.

"They shot him five times before decapitating him," answered the brunette woman that was behind Stiles.

Austin shot her a look before turning his attention back to Derek. "They call _us_ monsters, Derek. The call us monsters and yet _they_ cut people in half; they're the ones wielding medieval weapons." He looked over at Chris Argent and glared.

"Who was 'Brandon?'" Scott asked, looking between the two cousins.

"Brandon _is_ my brother," Austin answered. "He's the reason it's all come to this. Because they killed not only him, but his wife and my nieces, too."

"So you kill Michael Ostravos for revenge?" Argent pushed. "You kill him and everything spirals out of control? This was your master plan? Was he even responsible?"

"What exactly is your plan, Austin?" Derek added.

"To end this. For that, I needed the families to declare war. Max was the perfect scapegoat to lead them here and here's where the battle lines will be drawn. And Scott, well he already did the rest: he called in some backup. And there's more than just your pack I understand, right Scott?" Derek and Scott exchanged a look before the latter nodded. "So…allies?" he asked, extending his hand to Derek.

* * *

**Author's Note**: OC Character Update (Austin Rush's Pack):

_Austin Rush_: Brian Austin Green (Alpha)

_Brandon Rush_ (deceased): Sam Worthington (Austin's brother)

_Abbey:_ Diane Kruger (Rodney's girlfriend)

_Gray:_ Trevor Donovan (Tyler's boyfriend)

_Rodney:_ Brian Hallisay (Abbey's boyfriend)

_Sasha:_ Brooke Burns (Austin's girlfriend)

_Tyler:_ Kelly Overton (Gray's girlfriend)


	8. Sons of Mars

**| CHAPTER EIGHT, Sons of Mars |**

Once Scott had finally fallen asleep, Isaac shifted out of his clutch and made his way downstairs. His pack was still the only pack in the house so he wouldn't be disturbing nearly half the amount of people as he could as he made his way into the kitchen. But there, to his surprise, was Reid, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of something. "Hey," Isaac said, grabbing the milk out of the fridge after walking past him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Reid asked when Isaac returned with a mug of hot milk.

"Not really," the dirty blonde replied.

"Scott?"

"Fast asleep…thankfully."

"I, uh, I didn't realize it was this bad. When he messaged me yesterday…I honestly thought he was overreacting. But now that I'm here…_Jesus_…"

Isaac took a longer sip of his drink and shrugged, his face clearly exhausted. "I guess if you've been through the amount of shit we have…"

"This is clearly different."

"Not really; we've lost others before. Back when I was part of Derek's pack, we lost two of my packmates. We were closer back then, closer than I was to Scott. Erica and Boyd. This pack of alphas came to town after my sophomore year. Kidnapped them both. Erica…they killed her when she was held captive and Boyd…they killed him later to prove a point. We almost lost Derek, too. Scott's mom was kidnapped. Stiles and Allison's dads, too—I think we told you that before. Stiles was possessed by a dark spirit—Deaton mentioned it earlier…it's called a 'nogitsune.' He almost killed me. Derek almost died then, too, and I almost killed Allison because of this thing. It was a common thing…for our lives to be in total chaos. It was normal. But after the last three years or so, I was actually beginning to think our lives were calming down for good."

"Christ…" Isaac only shrugged again—he almost looked on the verge of a breakdown, but he managed to hold it together just enough. "I mean…_fuck_…yeah, you mentioned some of your past before. The _darach_ and all…but Jesus, dude."

"Being a werewolf isn't all that it's cut out to be," Isaac said, actually forcing a smile.

"Apparently."

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, each trading off turns in taking a sip before Isaac spoke up again. "I'm glad you're here, actually." Reid's right brow lifted. "Scott needs as many people who can prop him up right now. He's the leader in this and you're one of those people. Plus, knowing that you can do what you can do, especially now, we need to even the odds a little more."

"What exactly are the odds?"

"Hard to say. Best odds? Not quite 2:1."

"And the worst?"

Isaac let out a long exhale. "Worst odds? 7:1. They have a reserve of 300 guys that may or may not be joining the fight here. Not to mention this specialist they have…apparently he's killed entire packs single-handedly."

"I guess it's a good thing Tyler and I are here."

"Speaking of…I assume you're waiting up for him?" Reid nodded. "Is he gonna' pissed that you left him?"

Reid shook his head. "I talked to him already, after the others left. He was at first but when I explained why and what went down, he was glad I did. He did warn me not to do it again, though," he added with a mischievous smirk.

"So let me get this straight…you jumped out of a plane?"

"Technically I phased through the plane." This time it was Isaac's turn for his brow to raise. "I sensed you guys were in trouble so I locked myself in the bathroom when no one was really paying attention—if you've never flown red-eye before, you wouldn't believe how much quieter it is. Anyways, yeah I locked myself in the bathroom and phased through the bottom of the plane."

"You're crazy, Reid, but thank you."

— | BYW | —

_November 25, 2017. Night of the Full Moon._

When Scott finally woke that afternoon, he woke to the sound of his bathroom door closing. He opened his eyes to see a dripping-wet Isaac with a towel wrapped around his waist, his clothes laid out at the foot of the bed. "I could wake up to this every morning," Scott said, scooting his back up his pillow, shooting a grin in Isaac's direction.

"You practically already do," the blonde replied, removing the towel and rubbing it through his hair. "Sleep alright?" Scott nodded, though his expression didn't reflect as much. "You wanna' talk about it?" Scott raised an eyebrow. "You were tossing and turning a little." Scott looked away, even ignoring Isaac slipping his boxer-trunks up to just below his waist, having dried the rest of himself. "Scott," he began, forcing himself on the few inches of the bed and sitting next to Scott, "I'm gonna' tell you what you the same thing you told me the other day: 'It's okay…we can talk about it some other time.' But I want you to know, I'm here for you, always, and that I love you." Scott actually looked up at him and Isaac pulled him forward into a hug, letting Scott just settle. Once everything about him eased down—his heartbeat, his breathing, his thoughts—Isaac pulled away and pecked him on the forehead. "C'mon, you needa' hop in the shower…we have more guests downstairs."

— | BYW | —

Scott walked out of his room and immediately heard the sounds of a dozen voices downstairs. He shuffled downstairs to find five new faces he didn't recognize, each of them standing around. "Scott, buddy, this is Angelo Lupoli," Stiles said after noting his friend's presence. He dragged Scott over to the oldest looking of the five and presented him as if her were some artifact or painting. "Angelo is Shane and Steven's alpha…they decided to join us after all."

Scott stuck out his hand and forced a smile. "Glad to have you."

"It took some convincing, but I think we can help," Angelo relied, shaking Scott's hand. "I guess I should introduce my pack…these are my twin younger brothers, Donny and Leo. You've already met Steven and Shane. Over there is Kerry and Geoff—"

"Who, believe it or not," Stiles interrupted a little excitedly, "is one of the Silber brothers."

Both of Scott's eyebrows raised by Angelo continued. "—and I think you already know—"

"Scott!" came a long-heard familiar voice right before a body tackled into Scott, though both of them staying vertical. The scent was all too familiar and when Scott finally got a look at his face, a wide smile appeared on the alpha' face.

"Liam!" he said, returning the messed-up hug in kind. "I thought you were dead."

Liam shook his head as he pulled back and punched Scott in the arm. "So did I…but I had a little help recovering. There was a girl…B-something…she helped me heal. My memory was all screwed up and she sent me to Angelo; when I finally remembered everything, I was too niched in."

"You didn't think to call?" Scott replied. "At least let me know you were okay?" It was his turn to punch Liam and the beta popped a grin. "I didn't wanna' start something. Some alpha to alpha bullshit. I thought it was best to leave it."

"Mmhmm," Scott replied skeptically. "But you're happy with your pack?" Scott asked, glancing at Angelo.

"Yeah, everyone's great. We're a bunch of 'bros.'" Liam paused for a minute and grinned wider. Scott's right brow lifted and Liam almost giggled. "We call ourselves the 'frat pack.'"

"No, Liam, _you_ call us that," Angelo corrected.

"It doesn't matter," Scott said when Liam opened his mouth to reply, experienced with the beta's stubbornness. "Angelo, have you met everyone?"

The older man nodded. "I've known Derek for quite some time—after the fire, he and his sister stayed with me for a few months—and your _emissary_ was nice enough to introduce me to your pack; he also filled me in with all the details." He looked at Stiles and said, "Almost ad nauseam."

— | BYW | —

"Scott, this is Rhona Mclair," Jackson said, the main floor now full with 36 people. "And this Patrick Scanlan, our emissary." Scott reached forward and shook both of their hands, Rhona's pack crowded at the front door, Isaac standing behind Scott.

"I've heard quite a lot about you, Scott McCall," Rhona said, smiling at him. "All quite promising."

"I didn't think Jackson had anything nice to say about me," Scott replied, smirking at Jackson.

"No, Jackson didn't. My emissary, however, did."

Scott looked confused when Deaton walked into the hallway. "Patrick is the one that provided information about the _nuinn_. He and I've known each other for quite some time."

"I hear there're two of these _nuinn_ here with us," Patrick said, eliciting a nod out of Deaton and Scott simultaneously. "Well, Mr. McCall, you've got quite the way of attracting all sorts of _people_ to you. Warlocks. Banshees. Hunters—"

"Kitsunes," Isaac added, shoulder nudging Scott from behind.

"It's admirable," Patrick said with a smile. "It's something Alan and I've been dreaming of for quite a long time."

"I hope I'm all that you've imagined," Scott replied.

"If all of what Alan's told me…maybe more."

"Well, let's not stand here; you can meet everyone else." Scott took a manner of only two steps when the sound of muffled gun-fire struck the werewolves' ears. Windows shattered as the sound firing picked up from single-round bursts and elevated into silenced light machine gun fire. "Stiles!" Scott yelled, everyone now on the floor, some, depending one where they were, on top of others.

"I got nothin!'" Stiles replied, peering up at the monitors before bullets from the back yards pierced into them.

"Everyone stay down!" Scott ordered. "Reid? Tyler?"

"We're on it!" Tyler replied. Suddenly, the two warlocks popped into smoke. While none of them could see what exactly they were doing, Tyler had reappeared on top of the roof and knelt down and slammed his palm onto its surface. While he was creating a house-shaped shield around the structure, Reid was popping in and out of space next to the shooters and taking them out one by one, jabbing a magically-paralyzing forefinger into any piece of exposed skin. Within 30 seconds, the shooting had stopped, but damage had been done early.

"No, no, no, no, no…Gage, stay with me." It was Stiles, huddled over his red-headed girlfriend, who'd taken one of the first three shots fired as she was grabbing a drink out of the refrigerator.

"Stiles, get out of the way," Tyler said as he popped into the kitchen. He shoved the distraught druid out of the way and placed his hand on the center of her torso where the shot had penetrated. He closed his eyes and breathed, concentrating his _power_ into his palm. She began to squirm at first, and then she began to writhe as he hand heated up. But the searing pain ended just as quickly as it began when he pulled his hand away and before everyone's eyes the wound had vanished.

Stiles went to open his mouth to thank him but Gage just crunched up and kissed Tyler full on the lips. "It's too bad you're gay," she said after pulling back. He smiled at her and Stiles helped her to her feet, albeit a little left out. She hip-bumped him before pulling him into an embrace, one they needed after that major scare.

"That was incredible," Patrick said, having witnessed the whole thing.

"That was nothing," Tyler said, walking up to Scott and Patrick. "My boyfriend brought someone back from the dead last night."

"I can attest to that," Argent said before walking out the back door with Allison, likely to apprehend the shooters.

"He was the one…?" Patrick began when Scott nodded fervently.

"One of the snipers," Scott explained, "got him in the chest with a .50 cal.' He was probably dead for almost five minutes when Reid—Tyler's boyfriend—brought him back."

"I hope you didn't unleash something uncontrollable on the world, Mr. McCall," Patrick said, looking at Tyler though. "For now, though, I think it's safe to say we're in good graces with the world."

"Scott," came Deaton's voice, "may I make a suggestion?" Scott nodded, looking at him as if to say 'Of course.' "It might be pertinent to change locations; your mother's house has been compromised."

"And I'm sure she'd appreciate less bullet holes," Stiles added and Scott was about to reply when Reid's eyes flamed over and everything seemed to pick itself up and go back to exactly the way it had been before the shooting started. "Can we go now? That was a little too freaky for my taste."

— | BYW | —

On their way out to the cars, Rhona quickly introduced the members of her pack: her three brothers, Richard, Thomas "Tommy," and Douglas "Doug;" and her werewolf couple, Eric Levan—the Brit—and Nathalie Beauchene—the Frenchwoman. Throughout the duration of the envoy's relocation, Isaac led the way and ultimately led them to the demolished remnants of the Hale House.

"I thought this was fitting," Isaac began as the four packs and their friends exited their cars. "Plus, it's a full moon tonight." Scott lifted the blonde's hand and kissed the back of it before they walked closer to the foundation of the house.

"Is your cousin coming?" Scott asked Derek.

"We're already here," came the familiar sinister voice from the far side of the tree line, his five betas behind him. "So, why here?"

"They shot up my house," Scott answered, eliciting only a shrug from the malevolent alpha. "Besides, now that everyone's here, I think it's time to end this and I'd rather not do that in the middle of my neighborhood."

"So what now?" Austin posed, looking from Scott, to Derek, and back to Scott, ignoring the other two alphas as they walked up into the ventral mix.

"I thought you had this whole thing figured out," Stiles retorted from behind Scott.

"You wouldn't be the first emissary I killed," Austin replied, shooting a look at the youngest druid.

"And you wouldn't be the first psychopath," Derek added, shooting a look of his own at his cousin.

"Are we done?" Rhona Mclair said, looking between the related alphas.

"I have a plan," Scott said, forcing most eyes to turn onto him. "The time for talking is gone…unfortunately."

"No thanks to him," Stiles grumbled and Isaac punched him in the arm.

"They want a war and they're not gonna' stop until we're all dead. So we have to make them stop."

"The true alpha wants to participate in a bloodbath?" Austin mused.

"Not a bloodbath," Scott corrected. "We just have to show them that they fear us for a reason. That the supernatural world that the fear so much is a force, once united, can tear down theirs in an instant. So we meet them, on open ground, and show them exactly what we're made of. Five packs banded together with our allies. We fight. We maim. And I'd even go as far as to say that we don't kill any of them, but I can only speak for my own pack."

"You want to meet on an open field with an endless amount of wolfsbane-laced ammunition flying our way?" Austin posed.

"Trust me when I say I've got that part covered," Scott said, and glanced back at Reid, who, when Austin looked back at him as well, saw that his eyes flamed into black.

"Mr. McCall," Patrick began from just behind Rhona, "I have a suggestion, if I may."

"Shoot," Scott replied.

"The odds you're facing are rather dramatic and in times like these, packs have banded together before—"

_Snap_.

Everyone turned to look towards the sound and the stomachs of several members of the group turned over. "Sorry, don't let me interrupt you," Deucalion said.

* * *

**Author's Note**: The rest of the OC's...

Lupoli Pack:

_Michelangelo "Angelo" Lupoli_: Joe Manganiello (Alpha and oldest Lupoli brother)

_Donatello "Donny" Lupoli_: Jake T. Austin (Leonardo's older fraternal twin)

_Geoffrey "Geoff" Silber_: Josh Henderson (youngest Silber brother)

_Kerry Edwards_: Jack Reynor

_Leonardo "Leo" Lupoli_: Gregg Sulkin (Donatello's younger fraternal twin)

_Liam_ (not an OC): Dylan Sprayberry-will be seen in _Season 4_ of _Teen Wolf_

_Shane and Steven have already been mentioned..._

Mclair Pack:

_Rhona Mclair_: Gemma Arterton (Alpha and oldest Mclair sibling)

_Douglas "Doug" Mclair_: Jeremy Irvine (youngest Mclair sibling)

_Eric Levan_: Luke Pasqualino (Nathalie's boyfriend)

_Nathalie Beauchene_: Esmé Bianco (Eric's girlfriend)

_Patrick Scanlan_: Jeremy Sheffield (emissary)

_Richard Mclair_: Ben Barnes (second oldest Mclair sibling)

_Thomas "Tommy" Mclair_: Douglas Booth (second youngest Mclair sibling)


	9. Here The Be Monsters

**| CHAPTER NINE, Here There Be Monsters |**

"_Sorry, don't let me interrupt you," Deucalion said._ "Oh don't look so surprised, Scott. You knew I'd always be back."

"Who is he?" Angelo asked.

"This is Deucalion. A couple years ago he tried to get me to kill my own pack after killing his own; he's the one that formed the Alpha Pack. He calls himself 'the Demon Wolf.'"

"Or 'Death, Destroyer of Worlds,'" Isaac added.

"So you're here now," Scott said, ignoring the three of them. "Why?"

"What is it you and Derek said to me?" Deucalion posed. "That I'm a 'man of vision?' I must admit, I don't take very well to losing." Several of the wolves stirred. "But it's been several years, and I've seen a number of disturbing things. Things that have outweighed my…_distaste_…for losing."

Scott glanced back at Derek for a second, but it was Stiles who began the interrogation. "What, no pack to try and coerce Scott into?"

"Stiles…" Scott began.

"No, I'm serious. I wanna' know where this psychopath has been since he rained hell on us. Or did you forget that he's responsible for Erica and Boyd not being here?"

"He's also responsible for Jennifer not being here," Scott added.

"Who he practically unleashed on us as well," Stiles argued.

"And here I was ready to let bygones be bygones," Deucalion said, smirking at the younger emissary.

"Are you actually here to help?" Scott asked.

"Is that really so surprising?" Scott looked at him sarcastically. "Fair enough. Yes, I'm here to join your little rag-tag 'Rebel Alliance.'"

"Did you seriously just make a _Star Wars_ reference in front of me?" Stiles said, stepping forward, his hand threateningly moving to his sidearm.

"Stiles," Derek warned, gripping the druid's shoulder.

"I'll put it to you this way: you need me in this fight," Deucalion stated. Scott made to ask when Deucalion answered. "It's more than a simple numbers game, Scott. Any 'weapons' you think you may have, I'm the only weapon that will ensure your victory. But if you don't want me here, I'll be happy to return to my own pack. And yes, Stiles, I have another alpha pack."

"I'm surprised you didn't bring them," Derek offered.

"Vision, Derek. Vision."

"What do you guys think?" Scott asked, turning to his own circle of alphas. Rhona looked at her emissary and Patrick nodded. Derek and Scott exchanged a knowing look and with Derek's own nod came Angelo's. That left Austin and the twins.

"He stays out of my way, I stay out of his," the malevolent alpha answered.

"We trusted you once before," Ethan said to Scott, "we'll trust you again."

"But we don't go back with you," Aiden said to Deucalion.

"Excellent," Deucalion remarked, stepping closer to the group. "You're obviously the leader here, Scott…what next?"

"Patrick, you had a suggestion before we set up the meeting place?" Scott said, turning to the Mclair pack's emissary.

"You mean the valley of death?" Stiles remarked, eliciting more glares in his direction and Gage even placed her hand over his mouth.

"The legend goes," Patrick began, "that the war between the hunters and the werewolves stretches as far back to Lycaon's grandson, Arcas, who is said to be the first and greatest hunter. Since, werewolves, like others in the supernatural world, have become a world-wide phenomenon, and with it the war has followed. In its most vicious form, you've seen it manifest in Kate and Gerard Argent, Araya, and now even in Alexei Ostravos. While these are modern incidents, the worst have been in the past, primarily focused in central Russia where the most superstitious and God-fearing hunters have lived. And in certain instances, this has forced packs to band together, much like on a night like tonight."

"You're talking about the _bodark_ legends," Deucalion commented.

"Indeed."

"Bodark?" Scott said.

"The Russians have had many names for werewolves—like I said, the most superstitious of men. None of them carry any true weight because we all know how werewolves come into being."

"Birth or the bite from an alpha," Scott answered.

Patrick nodded. "But the Russians have these names regardless. The _wawkalak_ is one punished by the devil. The _vlkodlak_ is one transformed by magic. But there is a third, they call it the _bodark_: one who desires to become a werewolf. And like any legend or myth, the name bears some truth hidden beneath it. Certainly, one can argue that someone like Jackson is a _bodark_…by simple definition. But the real _bodarks_, the way the term has been used amongst the packs of Russia, the meaning is entirely different. Yes, it's one who desires to become a werewolf, but to become a supreme alpha. As I said, packs have banded together in the past when circumstances have been dire enough, and to fight off their enemies they would elect a _bodark_ as their leader. The alphas would choose one among them and cede their alpha strength to them to create a 'super-alpha,' if you will. A being more powerful than even Emers—"

"_Damnatio Christnominae_," Deucalion said, glaring at the druid.

"Forgive me, old friend," Patrick said, grinning at the man. "More powerful than even _Deucalion_. In return, the other alphas would become betas temporarily until the threat no longer becomes dire. The pay-off would be the near-invincibility of the _bodark_, whose dramatic speed and strength could overpower the pack's enemies with ease."

"Did you know about this?" Stiles asked, looking at Deaton.

His former mentor shook his head. "I'd heard the term before, but it was never anything I inquired about, no."

"Don't fret about it Stiles," Patrick assured, "I'm a _bard_, it's my job to know." Stiles nodded.

"So you're suggesting we create one of these _bodarks_," Austin posed.

"The only condition to create one is the intention; everything else is all in order. I wouldn't suggest this play if we didn't have our friends from the East Coast and Deucalion. The last _bodark_, 'Managarm,' was the sixth and he was killed by Frank Lawton seven years ago; the strength surrounding their specialist is far grimmer than you've been led to believe. But yes, Mr. Rush, I'm suggesting you elect a _bodark_."

"What do we have to do?" Angelo asked.

"There are eight alphas here, and I'm assuming you two share one spark?" Patrick said, addressing Ethan and Aiden, who promptly nodded. "In order to conduct the ritual, five alphas are needed: four to sacrifice their spark to one. But the power transfer needs to be more balanced, and therefore, Deucalion, you cannot be one of them, not that I suspect you'd want to volunteer." The 'Demon Wolf' shook his head, smirking.

"You can count me out," Austin said immediately.

"You started this, Austin, so you're gonna' help finish this," Derek said. "If we decide to go through with this ritual, you're participating; and I think I speak for all of us."

"How does it work?" Scott asked. "Will we be able to get our 'sparks' back?"

"You will—unless the _bodark_ dies," Patrick offered.

"You can _definitely_ count me out, then," Austin confessed.

"If you can keep the _bodark_ alive," Patrick added, "which should be simple but for Lawton, I can guarantee the sparks' safety from the anchor point…and there _is_ an anchor point."

"And that protection is…?" Angelo inquired.

"Two separate barriers: whitebeam and mountain ash. One to keep the hunters out, and the other to keep any greedy werewolves out," Patrick answered, looking at Austin.

"In that case," Derek said, "Scott should sit this one out. He's the only one we can trust not to go after the anchor and if need be, he can break the mountain ash barrier."

"Derek, I—" Scott tried to interject.

"It's alright, Scott," Ethan said. "We got this." Aiden nodded.

The true alpha nodded and looked around at the other accepting faces when Derek rounded on Austin again. "You're doing this, understand?"

"That leaves the question then," Scott began. "Who's gonna' be the _bodark_?"

— | BYW | —

The pack alliance walked through the forest a while in search of an oak tree that Patrick deemed suitable for the ritual—what made the one he settled upon different from the others still remains a mystery. "So, how does this work, Patrick?" Deaton said as the clouds above unveiled the full moon above them, forcing Scott to place extra attention on the newest addition to his pack; Max had yet to experience a full moon until now.

"The six of you," Patrick said, addressing the participating alphas, will stand here with me. The rest of the werewolves need to stand in a circle around us—no you don't have to hold hands," he said to the amused Doug Mclair. "Alan, you and the non-werewolves need to stand outside the circle. And since we have two extra alphas, Mr. McCall you should try and stand directly north in the circle, and Deucalion, directly south." Everyone began to shuffle around into positions, Max wedged between Scott and Cooper at the northern curve of the circle.

"Alright, Mr. Lupoli, you stand here at south," Patrick continued, pointing to a spot only a yard from the oak he'd selected. "Mr. Hale, here at east. You two should go ahead and merge and stand here at north. And, Mr. Rush, you stand here at west. Rhona, come with me and stand at south against the tree." Once the twins were merged and the now five alphas were each in place, Patrick commenced for a second time. "I will lead you all in an incantation, or as the Russian druids call it, a 'zagovór.' Each of you will have four lines each and as you speak your line, you will receive the copper dagger, and when you near the end of your lines, you will pass it on clockwise. On your fourth line, you will take the dagger and make a blood sacrifice in the left palm of your hand; try to do this as fluidly as possible. Mr. Rush, you will start and, Mr. Lupoli, you will conclude. When you make your sacrifice, pass it on to me—Rhona and I have already discussed this before so we will handle it from there."

Angelo nodded but Austin still had his doubts. "How do we know this isn't some trick?"

But Patrick, undeterred by alpha's blunt hostile nature, turned with his own cynical and warning look. "You don't, Mr. Rush, but if you've been listening to my heartbeat, you'll know I've been telling you the truth this entire time. And if that isn't good enough, let me be the first to assure you that if you don't follow through with this, your chances of surviving this little war you've instigated are little to nothing. Now, shall we proceed," he said, retrieving an older looking copper dagger from the inside of his coat, "or do you have anything further you'd like to add?" Austin Rush shook his head. "Excellent."

"Repeat after me: in the ocean sea, on the island Buyan," Patrick said, handing Austin the dagger.

"In the ocean sea, on the island Buyan," Austin reluctantly repeated.

"In the open plain, shines the moon upon an aspen stump," Patrick said to Kale as Austin passed 'him' the dagger.

"In the open plain, shines the moon upon an aspen stump," Kale replied as best he could.

"Into the green wood, into the spreading vale," Patrick said to Derek.

"Into the green wood, into the spreading vale," Derek replied, receiving the dagger and passing it.

"Around the stump goes a shaggy wolf," Patrick addressed Angelo.

"Around the stump goes a shaggy wolf," Angelo replied…

"_Under his teeth are all the horned cattle."_

"_But into the wood the wolf goes not."_

"_In the vale the wolf does not roam."_

"_Moon, moon! Golden horns!"_

"_Melt the bullet, blunt the knife."_

"_Rot the cudgel."_

"_Strike fear into man."_

"_Beast, and reptile."_

"So that they may not seize the grey wolf," Patrick said.

"So that they may not seize the grey wolf," Austin affirmed, slicing open his left palm with the dagger before passing it on.

"Nor tear from him his warm hide," Patrick cited.

"Nor tear from him his warm hide," Kale recited, slicing open 'his' palm with the same edge.

"My word is firm, firmer than sleep."

"My word is firm, firmer than sleep," Derek said, following the motions.

"Or the strength of heroes."

"Or the strength of heroes," Angelo concluded, cutting open his palm before handing Patrick the knife. He received the dagger, sliced open his right palm, and handed it to Rhona. She looked around at the three alphas in her sight, and then in the background at the surrounding packs before dipping her head back and letting the blood on the knife slide down her throat. Stiles grimaced in the background before her head levelled out and she drove the dagger through the trunk of the oak. It was at that point that the ground beneath them tremored slightly and Ethan and Aiden were instantly forced apart. They looked at each other and flashed their once-again blue eyes at each other. Austin looked back at his pack and they confirmed that his, too, were blue, and Derek and Angelo exchanged their blue and yellows respectively. When the three weakened alphas looked at Rhona, she finally revealed her own eyes…her copper eyes.

"Everyone back up now," Patrick said, even addressing Rhona to do the same. The six gathered several yards away and Patrick formed a mountain ash barrier around the oak. "Mr. Lahey, Alan tells me you're experienced with this," he said, holding up a back that Isaac could only guess was whitebeam. Isaac stepped forward and created a second, outer ring barrier, exchanging a look with Scott when he was done, mostly directed at the inner ring.

"How do you feel?" Richard Mclair said as he stepped up to his older sister.

"Powerful," she said, grinning at him. She turned to Deucalion and dashed into him, sending him flipping backwards to the tree line. She moved again to persist when the warlocks appeared between them back-to-back, Tyler facing Rhona and Reid facing Deucalion.

"We don't have time for this," Tyler said to her, both their eyes threateningly black.

"It's alright, boys," Deucalion said, not taken-aback by their display. "I think Ms. Mclair was just testing her abilities out on someone on her level."

"Right…" Reid said. "Are we good?"

"We're good," Rhona replied and Deucalion nodded, his own claws retracting.

"How…how did they do that?" Austin asked, looking at Scott.

"So if I end up having to break the barrier," Scott ignored as he walked up to the group, "and I'm the only one around, what do I need to do?"

"You simply remove the dagger and snap it in half," Patrick answered. "Think of it like a fang of its own: it holds the alpha sparks within its body, and if broken, those sparks will return to their original hosts."

"It's similar to a kitsune tail, Scott; one that's physically manifested. You remember what Mrs. Yukimura showed you at the school those years ago, right?"

Scott nodded. "So that's it? We don't need to wait or anything do we? Let her powers adjust or anything? I mean, clearly she's adjusting, but there's no wait-time?" Patrick shook his head. "Then there's one last thing I wanna' do before we head out. Chris, why don't you go ahead and send them the location we discussed, but I need to talk to Lydia before we leave."

"C'mon, Scott, let's get this fight over with already," Austin said. "You can talk to your girlfriend after—trust me, I'm sure you'll make it out of this just fine."

"Actually, Scott's _my_ boyfriend," Isaac corrected, stepping between them. "Lydia's with Aiden and she's a banshee, so he's got a good reason to stop for a minute."

Scott looked at Isaac as if to thank him before turning back to the 'wailing woman.' "Lydia, what do you feel? What do you hear?"

She shook her head. She was certainly pale, and everyone that knows her knew it wasn't all from the colder air. "It doesn't feel right, Scott. I can feel death," she whispered, "as if he were standing right next to me. Holding my hand, even. And the voices, they're usually more hushed. But this time…"

"What is it, Lydia?"

"They're incredibly chatty. They know something's wrong; they can feel it, too. This isn't going to end well—I don't know for who, but it's not."

Scott nodded and pulled her into a hug. "Go home. Drown them out." She nodded and Scott looked first at Aiden before he looked at Stiles. "Take her home. In fact, Patrick, Deaton, go with them. You don't need to be here, and you don't need to be on the battlefield. Get somewhere safe."

"I hate to do this to you, Max," Cooper added, "but, Scott, I think you should consider sending him with them." Isaac nodded and Scott followed.

"If you wanna' be part of this pack you can't be a killer," Scott said, "and since this is your first full moon, I can't risk that…for the pack or for you. Is that fair?" Max nodded and Scott turned to Stiles. "Will you look after him, too?" Stiles nodded. "Then we should head out…we've got some walking to do."

"And my brother just responded," Argent said. "They've agreed to our terms."


End file.
